Black and Blue Rewrite
by Ricoch3t
Summary: Without the scar Harry Potter has had a hard life. Now with the Triwizard Tournament coming to Hogwarts how will this elusive boy handle the demands such an event puts on him- and the lovely Miss Delacour? 5th year AU
1. Prologue

**Prologue:**

_Blood._

_A pool of crimson that spread from the mutilated body that lay amongst the debris of the battlefield. The neon signs reflecting upon the gruesome puddle._

_His hands, when he lifted them, were covered completely in the life giving liquid. And he knew, without looking, that the rest of him was covered in the same thing._

_The wailing reached his ears next._

_Children's voices cried out in fear, frustration and desperation. Their cries assaulted his ears and he turned to see that all around him, London had become a bog of dead children, their bodies filling the streets and the stench of rotting flesh filling his nostrils._

_He knew what was coming next, but it never prepared him for the moment they all came to their feet, jerking like puppets on strings._

_Their sightless eyes turned on him, and he could feel the recrimination in their stares. His protests had died long ago, and now he merely dropped his head in an admission of guilt. They would drown him in their innocent blood and tears, and he could do nothing to stop them._

_Clammy hands started to scrabble at his flesh, dragging him into the gaping pit of human debris that they would drown him in. The cloying liquid surrounded him and he knew it would be mere moments before he would have to breathe and the filth and shit and blood and tears would force itself into his throat and he would drown in it..._

_A sudden burst of light hurt his corneas straight through his closed eyelids._

_It chased away the human filth and lifted him from the pit, depositing him into a gagging trembling heap onto a patch of soft grass._

_A hand- far too soft to belong to anyone he knew- lifted his chin as a sweet female voice spoke from within the light._

"_Awake, Heir of the Lotus Tree."_

Harry Potter shot upright in his makeshift bed.

Sweat glimmered as the moonlight shone on his young, wiry body as he panted helplessly into the balmy air of the abandoned warehouse that surrounded him.

Running a shaky hand through his hair as he let out a whispered curse, he looked about himself as though the darkness were about to leap into action and reenact his nighttime terrors. Not that tonight's had followed the usual rules.

Never before had he been saved from drowning.

Never before had he heard a woman's voice in his head before.

Well, not one that hadn't been recriminating in any case.

And yet, he was just as sweaty and messed up as he usually was. With a sigh he fell back onto his bedding roll, weary but perfectly aware that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. A few of the tattoos covering his left arm glowed, letting off a little of the magical discharge caused by the thudding of his heart and shortness of his breaths.

Once he got his heartbeat and breathing under control he stretched, before clambering from his little nest and setting to work packing up everything that he'd unpacked last night.

It was early enough for him to get some of his odd jobs done before he turned up at the Claw and Dragon.

He finally snagged up his loose pirate style shirt, lacing it up with the ease of long practice and unwound the thong from his left wrist to tie up his shaggy shoulder length hair. The front parts always came loose and hung around his face, but he was no good at cutting hair, it would have to wait for the new school year.

One last glance around assured him that he had forgotten nothing, and he shouldered his duffel bag before he headed towards the door.

London wasn't awake yet this early and the breeze that cut through the air was thick with the promise of autumn, but not yet cold enough for him to need any more layers.

His feet led him toward his destination with a sureness that his mind did not have. The dream had unsettled him. He was used to the nightmares going one way- any kind of change never bode well. The last few times it had changed had involved harrowing near death escapades.

Merlin, was one peaceful year too much to ask?

"Harry!" A feminine voice dragged him from his thoughts and he shot a half-hearted smile at the petite lady in the washed out brown dress, her once white peasants blouse bearing having had yet another patch added to it since he had seen her yesterday.

"Tsk. You look like hell." She said, her tired mouth pursing and her faded blue eyes assessing him with at true mothers touch. Harry merely shot her a sheepish glance. With a sigh she beckoned him inside with her broom. "In with you then, help Nanna and Adrienne."

A nod, and then he was stepping into the small bakery where an elderly lady was busy kneading dough and a girl of around nine was spilling little drops of flour as she dragged a sack that was almost her size across the floor.

Upon seeing him, the girl let the sack of flour drop and ran toward him with a delighted squeal. Harry grinned as he grabbed her up, lifting her above his head before bestowing a sweet kiss on her forehead.

"Ah, Harry, you're here. I need you to make the dough for the dragon rolls- Adrienne, let Harry do his job. Have you set out all the ingredients for the doughs we'll need?"

"No Nanna." The little girl pouted as Harry set her down, but giggling when he gave her hair a quick pat.

Around them, London began to wake.

HP-BaB-HP

By the time Harry sat down with his breakfast of a dragon roll stuffed with cheese and bacon it was three hours and seven batches after dawn. The Kneazle Bakery wasn't a huge place, but its dragon rolls and little enchanted cupcakes were well known throughout Merlin Square.

Merlin Square itself was just outside of London, and as such a far larger neighbourhood than Diagon Alley.

Whereas Diagon Alley had a limited amount of shops- specialist shops for things like quidditch, potions and wands- Merlin Square had the more mundane everyday things that magical folks had. Like bread, green grocers, healers, tailors... and a street dedicated to pubs from every nation.

It was a poorer neighbourhood, and one where it was easy for one boy to lose himself in for three months. People here liked good workers- age was nothing but a number to the people.

And the flats that were situated above the stores were a lot cheaper than accomodation in Diagon Alley.

"Harry! Look! I made a dragon roll myself!" Adrienne cried as she ran over to him with her own plate. The dragon roll she was referring to was an admittedly good likeness to the fiery creatures, but its movements were limited to a jerky sort of nod and a lifted paw instead of the proper rearing, walking and fire breathing range. Still, Harry remembered his first tries and grinned at her as she sat on the bench next to him.

Adrienne continued to chat all through their breakfast, with Harry making the right hums at the right times, and they both ended up being scolded by Nanna for their tardiness in coming back into the kitchen.

Still, as the day drew on and Harry and Adrienne and Nanna baked, he found himself wistful at the thought of leaving this kitchen behind for a new school year. He enjoyed listening to the innocent prattles of a nine year old, and the smell of baking goods was a comforting one.

Here there were no games and hare brained schemes.

The only danger was kneading the dough too roughly and not getting a proper rise.

By the time evening rolled around Harry had thought himself into a bit of a slump, one that Adrienne seemed to catch on to as they doused the ovens for the night.

"Harry." She tugged at his sleeve, her large brown eyes looking into his. "Are you going to school again?"

Harry sat back onto his heels and nodded grimly at her. It seemed that she was becoming aware of the fact that summer holidays ended, and then they would spend months apart.

Her brown eyes teared up and a single drop fell down, quickly swept away by Harry's fingers.

"I don't want you to go though. I miss you!"

Harry gave her a shaky smile of his own, before he hugged her, letting her sob softly into his shoulder.

He was concious of both Nanna and Sabrina coming into the kitchen, before retreating for a bit, allowing Harry and Adrienne to say their goodbyes in peace.

When Adrienne had stopped her little hiccupping sobs into his shoulder he pulled back and smiled as he took headed for his duffel, taking out the little unicorn he'd carved for her. A happy gasp escaped her as the unicorn became animated in her palm, and then Harry was treated to another hug.

"Oh, that's pretty honey." Sabrina smiled as she came back into the kitchen and was assailed by her daughter's chatter about the gift. "Did you say thank you?"

"Yes Mommy!"

Sabrina's smile was pure motherly love as she sent her daughter upstairs for a bath.

"Thank you Harry." The smile this time was more tired, but no less genuine as she handed him the little bundle of cloth containing his wages- leftover goodies from the bakery which would last him the train ride to Hogwarts. "I hope we'll be seeing you again next summer- at the very least for Adrienne's sake."

Harry ducked his head as an acquiescence.

"Good. Now- sleep well and don't get into any of your usual trouble, you hear me?" Another nod and then she was hugging him. "Be good Harry. We'll all miss the man in our lives."

"Hmp. You're smothering him woman!" Nanna's voice grumped from behind them. "Come Harry, or we'll be late for our shifts at the Claw and Dragon."

Harry gave Sabrina one last one armed hug before he hurried out behind Nanna, who promptly shoved a jingling coin bag and a carton of cigarettes into his arms. She gave him an evil look as she lit her own cigarette, as though daring him to comment on her gifts.

One thing about the oldest of the Kneazle girls, she hated being called on her caring side.

So Harry merely smiled at her and lit his first smoke of the day.

It was heaven.

Pure and simple heaven.

Every year it got harder and harder to remember why he went back to school.

He was going to miss this.

HP-BaB-HP

**A/N:** Okay, I know I've dumped you right in the middle of an AU with very little along the lines of explanation, but if you trust me then all answers shall be given to you.

For an explanation of the timeline you want to refer to chapter 4- 'The Trial of Hermione Jean Granger', if you feel really impatient. I wouldn't recommend it that you skip to that chapter though.

Also: **WARNINGS that apply to this fic**: Smoking (No, I don't think it's cool. But it is a plot device as well as something to show character growth.), molestation, violence, gore, rampant silliness, angst, allusions to homosexuality and swearing. There will be **no slash** in this story.

There will always be warnings before the gore or any other traumatic experiences, so you're able to skip them.

If any of these things are not your cup of tea, then please leave it for others to enjoy. :D


	2. Slytherin Shenanigans

**Disclaimer: Yes. I am JK Rowling. I suddenly realized that I'd done everything wrong in the Harry Potter series, promptly rewrote it and posted it on fanfiction dot net. Where I don't make a cent off of it. **

**True story.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

King's Cross Station was chaos.

Not just the typical hubbub of commuting, no. Today had a distinct chaoticness that could only be caused by magic and muggle meeting.

Harry sighed as he finished off his last smoke of the day.

He'd seen The-Boy-Who-Bloody-Lived-to-be-a-Jerk Longbottom pass by a few minutes ago, along with his entourage, so he supposed it was safe for him to follow. But still. It was a long ride to Hogwarts and the odds of him getting a carriage to himself was slim-to-none.

But, his late parents had paid for him to go to a fancy school, so he would go to the bloody fancy school.

At least he'd get to learn some more this year because, sure, he knew some parlour tricks and could probably give even the most pure blooded brat a run for their money when it came down to everyday magic and defensive tricks, but he wanted to know more.

His thirst for knowledge was insatiable enough to enamour him to Hermione Granger. The resident know-it-all.

The thought of Hermione made him smile as he hefted his duffel bag over his shoulder and headed for the magical barrier which would deposit him onto platform nine-and-three-quarters.

The train was puffing like a chain smoker after a marathon, the various metal parts clanking like an arthritic person in winter. Harry jogged up to one of the back doors and, quickly thinking himself invisible, moved effortlessly through the crowd of wailing first years and their families.

He swung himself into the carriage door, looking right and left before he headed for the last carriage. After checking the compartment for any sign of life- unlikely, since it was rumoured to be haunted, a rumour he himself had started in his first year- he slid open the door and shoved his bag into the luggage rack above his head, briefly touching the attached tag to turn it invisible.

Then he settled himself into the seat and pulled out his runic text- a bit of extra reading that Cassandra, a regular at the Claw and Dragon, and a arithmancer- had given him as tip once she'd realized his passion for the subject.

He had been too busy to read it in the summer, but now he had nine months to get through it before she would expect any feedback from him.

However, he hardly had any time to get into the text because his compartment door was swung unceremoniously open.

His wand was out and ready to chase off any stupid first years or trouble makers but instead he was faced with a frizzy haired, brown eyed fifteen year old girl.

"Harry?" She asked, stretching her hand out blindly.

Hermione Granger let out a little shriek when he materialized a few inches from her questing hand. He rolled his eyes at her silliness and she stuck out her tongue at him.

"Very funny, Harry. Oooh, what are you reading? De Loghi's 'A Treatise on Runes and Alchemical Balances'? Sounds fascinating! You always get the most interesting books and such, it makes me wish I could live in the magical world permanently..." Here she finally took a breath and fell onto one of the seats as Harry watched her with a raised eyebrow. "Phew! It's been a long holiday- I missed having intelligent conversations about magic. Which is why I can't wait for this year to start! We get to do a research project in arithmancy this year- for our OWLs. I'm so excited! Aren't you? Of course you are, it's not like you're Ron or Neville... Don't give me that look!"

At the mention of those names Harry's face had gone from amused to stormy in milliseconds.

"Look, I know you don't like them, but they _are_ my friends too you know. And they're not as bad as you make them." There was a pinched sort of look to her face now, and Harry made a face which Hermione- through years of silent friendship- understood to mean 'let's not talk about those asshats, ok?'. She gave him a tremulous sort of smile, before it turned more genuine as she dove into the bag at her feet. "Well, any way, Neville and Ron's Dad got us all tickets to the quidditch world cup over the summer and look! I brought you some gifts!"

She smiled as she held out the two items to Harry. The one was a fully working figurine of all star Victor Krum and the other... was a pair of binoculars? Harry gleefully took the Krum figurine but he gave the binoculars a puzzled look.

"Oh! These are brilliant! They're called Omninoculars and they record everything you look at- I recorded the entire match for you on those!" She beamed at him. Harry felt a lump form in his throat- she'd thought of him amongst all the fame and fortune and excitement.

"And since we were in the top box due to Neville's contacts I got you some brilliant shots and..."

"HERMIONE! Merlin damn it, where is she? I need to copy her potions homework..."

For the second time that day Hermione found herself looking at empty space moments before Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley pulled back the door to the compartment. Longbottom frowned at her.

"What are you doing in here? Isn't this the so-called 'haunted compartment'?"

"Uhhhhhh... Yes. But I had to come in here because... I... was in the... bathroom and... I saw... Malfoy! Yes- Malfoy- coming my way. So I ducked in here to get away from him." Hermione flustered.

"Ohhhhhh... Makes sense." Weasley nodded.

"Yeah. That pale faced git. Now come on, I need to copy your assignment."

"Okay! Be right there!" Hermione smiled at them, picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

There was a soft swish of fabric as she felt something being put in her pocket and when she checked it just as they were about to stop at Hogsmead station she found a little scribbled "Thank you".

She smiled fondly at the note before she ushered the children out and began her prefect duties.

HP-BaB-HP

Harry stared in horror at the plate in front of him.

It was heaped with an obscene amount of food.

He was pretty sure he'd _never_ finish it. It had to weigh more than he did.

One look at the girl opposite him, however, was enough to let him know that he'd have no choice. And the girl who sat next to him had an equally determined look on her face.

Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bullstrode were determined to fatten him up.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

With a silent sigh, Harry set about emptying the plate in front of him, and he could see the girls relax their postures. That was his sign to begin to methodically cut up his food, mashing together the things he knew he wouldn't get around to finishing and moving them to the sides to make it seem as if he had eaten more than he had.

The girls, meanwhile were discussing their summers in detail (Daphne had gone to France, Millie had been stuck in family gatherings).

When Dumbledore finally got to his feet to make the year's announcements Harry had been glared at and told to 'eat up!' at least eight times, and had to make a mash of most of his food. He really hoped the house elves didn't decide to banish him from the kitchens because he demolished their food... that would be terrible.

A gasp from Daphne and Millicent brought him back from his dreamworld. He raised his eyebrows at them, but got a rude shush just in time to hear the tail end of the announcement.

Something about only people over seventeen being able to enter some stupid contest?

Not that it mattered. He was only fifteen, and he had no need to enter any stupid contest. What would it get him? Attention was not something he wanted. He was perfectly happy with just cruising through the shadows.

The scraping of chairs drew his attention to the fact that people were leaving the hall and he rushed to get out of his seat as well. Daphne was looking pensive, Millie was looking a bit flustered but Draco Malfoy was looking livid as he made his way over to Harry.

Harry startled as Draco snarled "Can you believe it?" at him.

At a loss for why, exactly, this competition made Draco so angry Harry shrugged.

"I mean- seriously? A Triwizard Tournament? What's the use? And because of it _quidditch_ is _cancelled_! Fuck!" He ran a pale hand through his blonde hair.

Oh. Quidditch was being cancelled due to this stupid thing.

"And of course, no slytherin will make it into the competition. We all know this." Daphne murmured at his side.

True. Everyone knew that Slytherin would never stand a chance in hell.

Draco growled in annoyance. "That's it. House meeting in the Fifth year commons. Spread the word."

Harry and the girls nodded and Draco went ahead to inform Pancy and the rest.

"This stinks." Millie said in her quiet, steady voice.

"You're telling me? Without quidditch, what do I have to live for? People to call me names and assume I'm going to stab them in the back? Sometimes being a Slytherin sucks."

"Sometimes it sucks big, hairy balls." Blaise Zabini cut into the conversation, his face grim. "This is so unfair."

Harry's mouth formed a grim line as he took in the despondency that permeated even the little first years. He was used to being ousted, but most of his housemates were used to being only children and as such the centre of attention.

Not to mention- it _was_ unfair to oust pretty much all the other houses and children under seventeen.

Still. It wasn't his fight or his business.

The eerie glow of the general common room met them all as they opened the wall- the greenish glow of the lamps and the skulls gave off a distinctly unwelcome atmosphere.

One of the firsties squealed like a little girl when he unexpectedly came face to face with one of the skull lamps and the older students took a few minutes to enjoy the general discomfort of the newcomers before Terence Higgs took pity on them.

"Would you Firsties relax- this is just the general common room. And the skulls and eerie lighting are just to keep nosy parkers either out, or ignorant of the true nature of our House. Through there you'll see your year common room- see?" He opened the door to the first years' part of the House to reveal an opulent room behind it.

"Now for Merlin's sake sit down and let's wait for Professor Snape." Draco drawled.

The atmosphere while they were waiting for Professor Snape's beginning of the year lecture was downright oppressive.

So Harry decided to put his parlour tricks to good use by conjuring little neon dragons that flew around in the common room and caused the firsties to squeal when they nested in their hair.

"Ahem. Mister Potter, if you are quite finished with your childish shenanigans?" Snape's silky smooth voice washed over them all, causing all eyes to move to the front of the room and Harry to duck his head in embarrassment as his dragons disintegrated.

"Very well. As you have just heard, this school shall be playing host to the Triwizard Tournament. This shall involve a great slice of socializing, even for those who do not take part in it. And I believe we are all aware that the House of Slytherin shall most probably _not_ take part in this Tournament directly."

Snape eyed his wards carefully as he said these words and he was able to see the resentment build in some of their eyes.

"However, we are the House of Slytherin, and as such our social skills far exceed those of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Even for those of us not competing in this competition, the opportunity to weave a greater social web is too great to be ignored. So we shall use this oppurtunity to the fullest. Agreed?"

"Yes Professor." The older children chorused, leaving the first years looking bewildered and lost.

"Good. Then I shall remind those older- and tell those who are new- that these are the rules of my House: Firstly, there shall be no Gryffindor-ish antics here. We are a dignified and intelligent House. Secondly: If you have a problem, no matter how small, you are to take it to your prefects. If they are unable to help you, then the problem will be brought to my attention. Under no circumstances are you to go running helter skelter into some sort of trouble, and you are not to try and handle more than you can on your own. Thirdly: you are not to have any disagreements with your housemates outside of these walls. We have enough opposition from the other houses without infighting. To the rest of the school we are an unbreakable unit- understood?"

"Yes Professor." They all chorused, with a few of the first years being out of sync, but generally as a unit.

"Good. Now go to bed- tomorrow is the first day of classes and I expect to see you all bright eyed and bushy tailed in the great hall at six for breakfast. That's six am sharp."

This was met by a chorus of good natured groans from the older students and a slight quirk of Snape's lips.

"Mister Malfoy, Mister Potter, I need to talk to you."

The two boys shared a look before going and joining their professor at the entrance to the general common room.

"I need the two of you to keep clear heads amongst all of this- you especially Draco. As prefect you _cannot_ instigate anything. This is not something we can fight against. Encourage the others to see this as a networking opportunity."

Harry nodded- this seemed a tad bit trivial to him. Though he could understand his housemates' point of view.

Draco was not so easily convinced but a long look from his godfather caused him to nod grudgingly.

"Good. Now- to bed." And with that Snape was gone in a swirl of black.

"Okay Firsties- you heard Professor Snape- off to bed with you!" Draco snapped.

The first years trudged off grudgingly, whilst Harry and Draco headed for their year's common room.

That was the great thing about Slytherin, it was built on a completely different floor plan to the other Houses. In each one there were eight double rooms, all linked to a circular common room that belonged to that year only, with its own fireplace, desks and chairs.

The common room was shared between the girls and boys, since the year rooms were all linked. Since there were so few of them in their year, Harry had ended up with his own room, so had Draco. Crabbe and Goyle shared a room, so did Blaise and Theodore.

The girls all had rooms to themselves. Which they of course loved.

When they entered the fifth year common room they were greeted by the sight of all the second years up sitting at attention, with hushed whispers passing between them.

They all turned their attention to Harry and Draco once Draco cleared his throat though.

"Well- what did the Professor say?" Pansy demanded immediately.

"He said we should see this as a networking opportunity, not a punishment or a setback."

"And? Are we going to do that?" Tracey Davis demanded.

"I don't see that we have a choice, do you?" Draco demanded.

"Merlin damn it. We all know that some Gryffindor is going to get it. And what do we get? Nothing. No quidditch, nothing." One of the seventh years spat.

"Well..." Daphne said, thoughtfully.

"Well what?" Pansy snarled.

"I'm just saying, if I were betting, I'd bet on Cedric Diggory. Not some Gryffindork."

A thoughtful silence met this statement.

"You know, you could have a point Greengrass." Malfoy murmured.

"A Hufflepuff..." Pansy's grin was distinctly predatory- like a shark at a buffet.

"Now there's a thought I could sink my teeth into." Blaise smirked.

"Ah, their faces when they lose to some whiny Hufflepuff..." Terence Higgs grinned.

Even Harry had to smirk at that thought. Longbottom coming second to someone? Definitely worth the loss of quidditch- after all, there was an age limit to this whole charade.

"Oh, this is brilliant! Think of all the songs we could make about this! 'Weasley is our King' has nothing on this gold mine!" Urquhart waxed, pulling out his ever present notebook and quill.

No one had any doubt that by the end of the week he'd have at least five potential songs written. All with the sure sight of riling up the Little-Prick-Who-Lived.

It never really payed to incite Slytherin.

Vaisey, meanwhile leaned in to Urquhart, "We should add Weaselby, and Finnigan, but it should be subtle digs... No, I think the whole quidditch thing's been done."

"You're right- we want it to still be able to work in next year's games..."

So while the two of them got down to writing some hard core ditties, the rest of the Slytherins came up with other ideas to poke and prod at the volatile Gryffindor tempers...

Hey, they had to get a kick out of something, and Gryffindor baiting was quite a rush.

"Okay- so we'll get the Firsties to help with the badges, because really, they're too young to be of any other use without their sarcasm and wit lessons..." Daphne nodded, looking at her list.

"And those can only come after we've taught them etiquette and dancing..." Draco murmured.

"Still, we've got a pretty good plan in the works here." Teddy- as he was affectionately known amongst the Snakes- nodded.

"Exactly. And as Professor Snape said- this is an excellent networking opportunity. We should see it as such."

"Ah, yes. Another great year of Slytherin shenanigans."

A murmur followed this statement, and Harry gave her a huge smile and a thumbs up. Funnily enough it made her blush, but before Harry could ponder this too much, Vaisey got up and stretched. "Well okay then, I'm going to bed. Six am isn't too far away."

Groans sounded from all around the common room as everyone got up and started heading for their rooms. Harry had just turned to head for his own room when he felt a petite hand on his shoulder, when he turned around it belonged to Daphne.

"I just wanted to say goodnight." She said, with her huge green eyes fixed on him, and a little smile on her lips.

Harry smiled back at her as he made a 'you too' gesture. She blushed again at this but was sudddenly pushed aside by Millicent who promptly hugged Harry.

It took all his self discipline not to punch her out of pure reflex.

"Night Harry!" She purred and Harry gave her an awkward pat on the back in return.

When he turned to look for Daphne she was gone, so he headed for his empty room.

Still, it wasn't long before his restless night caught up with him and he was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

HP-BaB-HP

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><p><strong>AN:** Whoo! Would you look at that- two updates in as many days. Don't get used to this, I reached my three chapter buffer and decided to put this out early. (Thank you disease for gettting me a week off of uni.)

That said, I am high on prescription meds, so forgive any errors. And thank you for all your supportive reviews and alerts.

Now for a shameless plug: If you like this tale, then you may enjoy my original fiction works. They are available at fictionpress. My pen name is 'sniggering doodles'. End of shameless plug. ;D


	3. Waking The Prince

**Disclaimer:** Nope. Still own nothing.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

It was a little known fact about Slytherin House that Professor Snape, after about a year of suffering late fools, had installed an alarm system which would (and frequently did) wake the dead.

At five am.

Every weekday morning.

On weekends they got to lay in until a luxurious six am.

Harry awoke to the squealing, high pitched sound with a heart that beat like a crazed drummer who'd forgotten his antipsychotics and the knife which had rested beneath his pillow drawn and aimed at the imaginary foe.

Yeah. That always took some getting used to.

Well. Unless you were Draco Malfoy- that boy could sleep through anything. And he was _mean_ when he woke up, so it always fell to Harry to wake him up.

So with a cat-like stretch and a soundless yawn, Harry got up and padded towards the door on his bare feet and bare chested.

Waking up Draco was an art.

First things first, you needed caffeine- and lots of it. Most mornings it took an entire pot to get Draco up, presentable and present at the breakfast table.

That's why one of the first things they had done when they'd gotten to pick the furnishings of their year common room was get two magical coffee makers. One they labeled as Draco's, and another one was for the rest of them.

Because facing the day without caffeine was like facing a dragon with a toothpick- possible, but ugly and foolhardy even at the best of times.

And so Harry slumped a little in relief that the house elves had had the sense to turn on the percolator.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee beckoned people from their rooms, the girls giggling a little at the sight of his bare, tattooed chest.

Still, Harry got the carafe of coffee and headed for Draco's room. He didn't bother with knocking since it would fall on deaf ears.

Merlin help the little Firstie who tried to rouse Draco because their friend was coughing up blood or something.

Once again Harry grinned at the picture the Prince of Slytherin made when he was asleep- all awkward angles and elbows in the little nest of his comforter and blanket (because Draco hated the cold, and he always seemed to _be_ cold, something about Veela blood or somesuch). His blonde hair, normally so carefully coifed, stood up in all directions and his head hung off the end of the bed emitting little snores and a teensy bit of drool.

Yep, he was a symbol of style and poise when he was awake.

Asleep- not so much.

Harry deposited the caffeine on the bedside table, before calmly ripping the blankets off the other boy in one fell swoop.

This earned him a missed swat at his legs and a "Mmmmmmph!".

Next he sat down on the bed, finding his balance before he began bouncing on it.

This earned him a "Gerroff!".

After about five minutes of bouncing, Harry poked him. In the side.

The tender flesh of his side.

An angry snarl of wordless rage.

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

"WHAT?" Draco exploded at him in rage, sitting up in bed.

The trick was to keep him in the upright position, and keep feeding him caffeine until he could be brought into a standing position and shoved in the direction of the showers.

It was all easier said than done, but by five-thirty Harry was finally able to drag him into the showers.

Stepping under the spray of the showers was pure bliss, and Harry could feel his muscles unwinding under the warm caress of the water running down his body. Harry let out a small sigh of pure unadulterated pleasure.

By the time he was clean, however it was time to reach into Draco's shower and yank him out of it. Hand him a towel to dry himself and then shove him in front of the mirror. Draco's vanity would automatically activate, even when he was insensate, and then it would just be watching him to make sure he didn't do something stupid like put on make up.

It had happened once in third year when Harry had forgotten about him in his haste to get to breakfast.

It had scarred them all into extra vigilance.

Teeth brushed, hair done, clothed in school uniforms the two emerged into the general common room at quarter to six. Pansy had already scared most of the firsties through their morning routine and was now organizing the younger years into neat, freshly pressed Slytherin glory. Seeing Draco ready to go (even if it was Harry steering him and propping him up) she promptly clapped her hands and ushered them all out into the dungeon corridors.

Harry heard the unhappy grumble of the Firsties- they felt that having to go up as one group so early in the morning was a complete waste, nothing short of cruel really.

The older Slytherins knew better.

It was a lot harder to pick on a large group than it was to pick on an individual scurrying late to a meal. And the early start not only allowed those who didn't do mornings well (*cough*Draco*cough) the time to start waking up mentally before the school day started, but also allowed them to watch the rest of the school come filtering in, getting a good feeling of what mood permeated the school that day.

It was an essential thing part of the Slytherin Strategy.

When Professor Snape whirled into the Great Hall at six, his Slytherins were waiting for him. Professor Snape inclined his head at them, and made a silent clapping gesture.

Harry grinned from where he was feeding Draco broccoli (the only time they could get it into him, something Narcissa had begged them to continue at school).

Okay.

Maybe school wasn't _that_ bad.

HP-BaB-HP

By the time that the last period of the day- Arithmancy, thank Merlin- had rolled around, Harry had reassessed his thoughts that morning.

Longbottom had been insufferable. Weasley had been brain dead. They'd both nearly killed the entire bloody class with their childish shenanigans in potions... And then Snape had confiscated his charmed earring for 'safety reasons'.

What a weird reason to confiscate an earring.

It was charmed with a pretty powerful protection charm- so really it was a safety precaution. And he didn't care if the girls had all giggled at him for wearing jewellery, it had taken a lot of work and already saved his life once that summer.

Stupid giggling gaggle of girls.

He was pretty sure Snape would never have noticed it otherwise.

No.

School was alright.

It was the dickheads in it that ruined the experience.

He slunk into the classroom and promptly sat at the desk in 'his' desk. Right in front of Professor Vector's desk.

There was no hiding in a class of seven people.

Blaise followed a short while later, with the four Ravenclaws entering in a little gaggle of their own already discussing the possible work for this year.

Finally Hermione made it into the classroom just as Professor Vector did.

The professor smiled at Hermione, before setting the load of books that she had been carrying down on her desk. Her short blonde curls were filled with chalk dust already, and there were other parts of her teaching robes that also bore the marks of chalk.

"Well, hello everyone, welcome to a new year." She gave them all a bright smile that made her blue eyes crinkle. "Now, first things first... Yep. You're all here."

Hermione, who had finally gotten all of her books out of her bag and was now trying to get all of her inks and quills out, looked up smilingly into her favourite teacher's face.

"Okay! So, about this year. It's going to work a little bit differently from your previous years in that we'll be having five periods in a week. The first four are normal class times, with the normal testing procedures."

Harry thunked his head onto the table. The normal testing procedures meant that at the end of the first double period of the week they would write a short quizz on what they had done in class that day, whereas the last two would end in a short ten mark quizz on what they had done the previous two periods.

It wasn't that he was lazy...

Okay. No. He was lazy.

He was a teenage boy though- they were all bloody lazy. And writing two tests every week was just cruel.

Professor Vector gave his head an absent minded pat. "There, there Harry. I hate tests too- but the great news is that the fifth period- the one we're in right now- will be your designated Research Period!"

A questioning glance at Hermione at his right side and one at Blaise revealed they had no more clue about this than he had.

"You see, in your OWLs you will not only be judged on your written paper but also on a research project of your choosing. This will be due one week before your OWLs will be written and will be graded as follows:-"

Vector waved a hand at the board and a written version of the grading plan appeared on the board.

"You can write that down, it's pretty self explanatory. Here are your study guides for the year. It explains pretty much the rest, and allows you to prepare for class... There you go Li, take that one. Right now- your research projects.

You are to run your topic past me, and then I will guide you in the research and final writing of your paper. You have eight months to get this right, and those who mark your research papers will be expecting you to make the most of that time period.

There you go Blaise. Now! I suggest that for today, you go look at the possible topics for your research projects, so that we can start discussing them in next week's period. Alrighty, see you in class on Friday- remember to come prepared. You never know when I might throw in a pop quizz..." This last statement was said with a little wriggle of her fingers, which made most of the class chuckle a bit.

Harry waited for Hermione as she struggled to get everything back into her little messenger bag. She huffed when she finally straightened up and saw the amused look on Harry's face as he leaned against his desk.

"What? This is all essential to my performance in school!"

Harry raised a disbelieving brow at her.

"It is!" She stated as they walked through the doors and toward the library. "I have two quills per period- three for history, since it's so much writing, my books for every subject- in case I have time to spare in the library. My extra books for every period- don't shake your head at me, it's going to be very useful in our research period for arithmancy! And I heard the same thing is going to count for ancient runes... Yes, I have asked Professor Babbling for our study guides already, I thought since it was just you, Su and me in the class I'd save her the trouble... speaking of which, here's yours. I'll give Su hers at dinner. Mind you, I don't know how the others think that they can do arithmancy without runes, I mean, really..."

With a roll of his eyes, Harry steered her away from the inner bowels of the castle and towards the outside grounds.

It was a sign of how deep into her conversation at him she was that she didn't notice the change in scenery until Harry gently sat her down behind the last greenhouse. She blinked twice in confusion before casting a glare at him.

"Harry! Not this again- we looked at the charts! Do you want me to get the charts? Smoking is _terrible_ for your health- half blood or no! Oh, who am I kidding? No one ever listens to me." She said the last bit with a bit of a pout on her face.

Harry, his lit cigarette hanging from his lips, sat down next to her and gently bumped his shoulder against hers. She gave him a wan sort of smile.

"I guess I'm just kind of worried about Neville and Ron. They always seem to be getting into trouble." Another shoulder bump and she gave him a bit of a brighter smile. "Yes, I guess you're right. I mean, at least he can't get into this Triwizard Tournament. So I guess this year could be pretty calm..."

Harry smiled at her.

"Thanks Harry. Really. You've set my mind at ease." She smiled as she lay her head onto his shoulder, his head coming to rest on hers. "Hm, nice day today. We should be savouring it. Winter is coming hard and fast."

Harry hummed in agreement, and together they watched the clouds roll by.

HP-BaB-HP

Fleur Delacour grinned as she sent her opponent crashing to the floor with a body binding curse.

It had been a vicious first day back at school for all of the seventh years. They had been set to duelling with each other from that morning at eight until, now, it was just Fleur and Henrie left standing at the end of the duelling competition.

And she knew Henrie was no real match for her duelling skills.

This was it- her chance to shine. Her chance for people to see her as more than just another- okay, no more like _the _pretty face. She could hardly wait for this trip to England.

With an elegant swish of her wand, she stowed her wand away as she headed for the table which held the glass decanters of water and fruit juice. Henrie had a grim sort of determination on his face as Marie was talking intently to him. Undoubtedly telling him to stand strong in the face of Fleur's pure gorgeousness.

She sent a smirk in their direction.

The whispers never changed. And on the bad days, they _would_ get to her. But they had followed her ever since she had been a child and she had gotten used to them. The quick grab of women to steer their male counterparts away from her, the drooling of men. It never really changed.

In the end, her mother had always said, it never mattered.

Even though her mother had managed to become French Minister for Magic, she never quite got away from the stigma of having Veela blood flowing through her veins.

And yet, today, Fleur was getting a little bit away from that stigma. Setting about carving her own niche in the world. Getting things done.

Her mother had never raised her daughters to sit idly by in the world, she'd always had her eyes on that Minister's spot and she'd spent most of her life working towards it. Marriage and children had come naturally with the territory, and the Delacour girls had never been raised with the idea that having a family was a _goal_.

Rather, a family was seen as one of the payoffs of getting out there and making your mark in the world.

With her thirst sated on the cool mineral water, Fleur turned back to the duelling room.

"_Fleur, Henrie. Are you ready?"_ Professor Moreu asked them. They both nodded and headed for the centre of the bright and airy room.

They both bowed in true honourable fashion.

And then it was chaos.

Fleur immediately targeted Henrie with a bat bogey hex, which he managed to just dodge. There was a scraping sound as they both drew their swords.

Duels had always had a bit more bite in them than Hogwarts had managed to briefly convey in the Lockheart fiasco. That, and the fact that the Health and Safety people had though that handing a bunch of children a bunch of swords _along_ with their wands was, well, Not Safe or Healthy had led to Harry's generation of Hogwartians to be ignorant of the true nature of a duel.

True wizarding duels were held with wands and swords in a perfect balance of physical, magical and mental.

And Beaubaxtons upheld these ideals to the fullest.

So it was that Fleur found herself dodging a spell from Henrie only to almost be scewered by his sword.

"_Sloppy footwork Delacour!"_ Professor Monreu admonished her as she threw up a shield that would protect her from his incoming hex, even as she parried his overhead slash quickly following it up with a slash aimed at his neck.

Henrie managed to dodge the slash, but found himself dodging straight into Fleur's cutting hex. A cut opened up on his left arm and left him dodging her next slash too quickly.

By the time he realized that he had hit the floor Fleur had hit him with a body bind hex, and had put a foot firmly on his chest with her rapier aimed at his neck.

"_Match to miss Delacour!"_ The professor announced and Fleur smiled again.

"_Now, miss Delacour, that was a sloppy show of footwork. I taught you better than that! If I ever see you do such a poor job again I will personally cut you to ribbons..."_

Fleur rolled her eyes.

Some people were never satisfied.

HP-BaB-HP

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Wow. What can I say about this chapter?

Except that I'm sorry that my fight scene is so terrible. We'll be visiting Mr Krum in a chapter soon to come.

Hopefully the part with Draco is amusing to someone, and hopefully it gives you a bit more of an idea as to Harry's place in Slytherin.


	4. Of squirters, kidnappings and the HWA

**Chapter 3**

Daphne Greengrass was furious.

She couldn't believe what her eyes had seen outside- Harry and that Gryffindork Know-it-all sitting all too cosily and watching... what? Some lovers' scenery? Reliving a date? Maybe they were just _cuddling_.

That would be terrible.

She huffed herself straight into the dungeons, and onto the bed.

Who the hell did that little mudblood think she was? Moving in on Harry- it wasn't fooling anyone. They could all tell she was working an angle. She would probably seduce him and then put him on a bloody altar- a sacrifice to appease the Gryffindorks.

The thought of Harry bound and naked and helpless on an altar made her heart constrict.

Why couldn't Harry see through that wench?

Didn't he see the way it was always Daphne who was there for him?

She _always_ said goodnight, made sure he was fed, told the houselves to make sure he had extra blankets... They laughed a lot together. Had a good time. Went out to Hogsmead together.

Ugh! She should have taken Runes and Arithmancy! That way that Gryffindor chit wouldn't have gotten her claws into him!

The truth was that ever since Daphne had figured out that 'sex' was more than just a word, she'd been in love with Harry.

She'd been crushing on him since before that.

_Gah!_ She thought as she tried to smother herself in her pillow. _It was all his fault! Always showing up like some knight in shining armour... listening to her prattle with this faint smile on his lips... acting like she fucking _mattered_!_

This was monumentally unfair.

First quidditch, now Harry.

Ever since he'd fought off Longbottom and his cronies when they'd cornered Millie and herself back in first year, she'd adored him.

Adored him like a lost traveller adored a lantern... like a lily appreciated the moonlight... like a werewolf appreciated a fresh steak... like...

Oh. Dear. Merlin.

She sounded like one of Urquhart and Vainey's lame love songs!

A really lame one.

Ugh! If only he didn't insist on walking around the dungeons barely clothed! She knew she wasn't the only one to look at that tanned, toned expanse he called a chest when he came out to get Draco's coffee in the mornings.

The tatoos just added that bad boy edge...

Merlin! This was so unfair! Granger was getting what Daphne wanted. And she was a bloody Gryffindor!

"Daphne?" Millicent's voice came through the door.

"I'm in here Millie."

The door to her room cracked to reveal Millie- one look at her and Millie called her personal house elf to go and get some bloody chocolate.

"What's wrong?" Millie asked after sending the elf off with some coins.

"That hag- Granger- is dating Harry!" Daphne cried.

"... Impossible. It would be totally unfair."

"Yeah well, they were looking pretty fucking cosy when I went for a smoke after class!"

"No. Nu-uh. I absolutely refuse to believe that my Harry is dating that harpy!"

There was a moment of silence before.

"_Your_ Harry?" Daphne asked in disbelief.

"Yes- _my_ Harry. After all, he did save me, and I have been looking after him ever since. It's only natural that we end up together..."

"Excuse me you... you... Gollem! _I_ was saved by him and _I've_ been taking care of him all these years! _I'm_ the natural choice!"

"No you haven't! I have!"

"I saw him first! He's _mine_!"

"Like hell he is!"

"Ladies- ladies! What is all of this uneducated shouting about!" Pansy Parkinson asked, hands on her hips as she stood in the door to Daphne's room.

"She's trying to steal my boyfriend!" They both shouted, pointing at each other.

"Uh huh..." Pansy gave them both a long hard look. "Would this 'boyfriend' by any chance be one Harry Potter?"

The blushes on their faces must have given them away, because Pansy rolled her eyes at them. "Well, well. Funny coincidence- guess what I just got a memo about? No guesses? None? Fine, I'll tell you. The HWA is having a special meeting tonight. And the first thing on the agenda is Harry Hunting."

"Really?" Daphne asked, grabbing at the beige handmade paper that constituted the agenda for that evening's meeting.

"Yes. And apparently they're bringing in Miss Granger to... explain this afternoon's little scene..."

"Good... I can put her in a headlock again..." Millie growled.

Pansy immediately squirted her with water from a little green bottle.

At the two other girls' dumbfounded looks, she shrugged.

"I'm exploring behaviour modification methods to see whether it doesn't make the Firsties more trainable... So beware my squirter bottle!"

"Riiiight... We'll, uhm, do that Pansy..." Daphne said, slowly backing away from the other blonde.

"Good- here, have a chocolate." She smiled, holding out the gold foil wrapped treat.

"Ooh! Don't mind if I do..."

HP-BaB-HP

Dinner was... awkward.

For some reason Pansy was squirting people with water and/or giving them little chocolates (Harry didn't want to know, he honestly didn't), Tracey was busily writing something on hand made paper with little flowers in it- and then borrowing Pansy's spray bottle to spray a little of the violet scented water on the paper.

But it was Millie and Daphne that were worrying him.

It wasn't that they hadn't piled his plate higher than Big-freaking Ben or that they hadn't both been fussing over him as usual...

It was the fact that they seemed to be doing it with an edge of- dare he say- competitiveness? They kept scowling at each other and elbowing each other away from him.

Maybe he smelled?

A quick sniff revealed that there was a faint hint of perspiration there, but it was blissfully neutralized by Lockheart's Pit Lotion- in Ocean Fresh scent.

Okay.

He didn't smell _bad_.

Another quick look at the female portion of the Slytherin table revealed that something was definitely up with it. They were all either bent over the notes that Tracey seemed to have been handing out during dinner.

Of course, she'd been handing them out to almost the entirety of the school's female population... and it did seem that they were all a little... edgy.

What the hell was going on here?

And then there was the irritating giggle that seemed to be permeating the Firstie girls... What in the name of Merlin's old, saggy balls was going on here? It was putting him on edge.

"It's an HWA meeting." Draco said in hushed tones over the table as Daphne and Millie started arguing about who was going to study with him in the library. Maybe they were mad at each other? Would he have to take turns studying with them now- or would they make up?

Harry raised his brows as Draco beckoned him closer. "I'm not kidding- I saw the invites."

"No way- that's just an old Hogwarts legend. No way we have a 'Hogwarts Women's Association'." Blaise put his two cents in it.

"No, no- I _saw_ the invitations... with my own eyes in Pansy's bag when she was squirting some Firsties..."

"Yeah- what's up with that man?" Teddy asked, eying Pansy warily.

"Merlin alone knows." Draco rolled his eyes. "But that's not the point!"

"What are we talking about?" Urquhart said as he slid closer.

"Who are we pointing at? Because we had a false start today... Thought we could take on a Hufflepuff but Sprout ended up seeing us..." Vainey nodded as he joined the little male huddle.

"We're talking about the HWA!" Draco said.

"... Old wives' tale." Urquhart dismissed.

"Yeah. That many babes in one room? We'd have sniffed them out by now." Vainey agreed.

"Apparently Draco saw the invites in Pansy's bag..." Teddy pointed out.

"No way. That's just too scary a thought." Adrian Pucey pointed out.

"Yeah, you want us to believe... what? That all our girlfriends belong to some secret society that is capable of bringing us all to our knees by withholding sex or something?" Warrington guffawed as he elbowed Montague.

"Yeah right. Later losers." Montague snorted as he and Warrington got up and headed for the dungeons.

Harry glared after them, his hands in fists beneath the table to keep him from smashing their stupid faces in.

"Ugh! Now that the _rabble_ has gone... I saw it! It's real!" Draco exclaimed.

"That would explain Tracey's weird behaviour I guess..." When the rest of them turned quizzical gazes on Blaise he merely shrugged. "Well, they'd need agendas for their meetings wouldn't they? And Mum's assistant is always scribbling away at agendas and memos for her perfume business..."

"That would make sense I guess..." Teddy said, with a sideling glance at Tracey.

"That is a really... scary thought." Urquhart said, also eyeing the girls strangely.

"I know, right? But wait- how would that work? What about House loyalty?" Vaisey asked.

"Well... it's never really been the girls that have harped on about that... they seem to date indescriminately amongst the other three houses..." Teddy said, thoughtfully.

"Psh. Well... well... if they can do it then so can we!" Draco decided.

All the guys stared at him in disbelief and he deflated.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. We have too much testosterone for that to work."

Harry just grinned at him and gave him a solid pat on the back.

HP-BaB-HP

Hermione Granger was in trouble.

So much trouble.

She'd been abducted in the middle of the Hogwarts halls! She'd been squashed in between Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Ginny Weasley and Katie Bell... Were they okay? Had this fiend gotten them too?

The point was, she'd been walking up towards her dorm in relative peace when suddengy a bag had been shoved over her head, she'd been body bound and thrown over someone's shoulder.

Wasn't it a bit early in the year to be getting kidnapped?

After all, they'd all pretty much gotten into a comfortable rhythm: start the year, run around trying to figure out what Voldemort (or their DADA teacher... or both, if you counted Quirrel) was up to this time around, foil the insidious plan, win the house cup and then go off for the summer holls.

This was _not_ in keeping with that pattern.

Which was a Bad Thing.

Whenever a routine got changed, it meant something had gone wrong.

Hadn't they foiled the whole Ministry-Prophecy scheme well enough? Had they kidnapped her to use as leverage so Neville would tell them the prophecy?

Would Harry be able to save her again?

Not to do the other boys in her life injustice, but it always ended up being Harry who would save all their sorry asses... And she knew that he always went where angels dared not tread to keep her safe. Somewhere along the way, they'd ended up as more than the last two kids to get chased out of the library.

They'd ended up as friends.

And Harry looked after his friends.

That little bit of certainty caused a warmth to bloom in her chest... Pity it couldn't take away the panic that was pretty damn close to surfacing any minute now...

She was a researcher, not some beefcake fighter! Even in computer games she played the brainy, back of the battlefield type of characters.

_Boy, for someone who doesn't fight you sure do end up fighting a lot. _A nasty little voice in the back of her head snarked at her.

It sounded suspiciously like Professor Snape.

_Shut it, voice! I am a member of Green Peace! I. am. Peaceful. Now shut up before I hex you into oblivion!_

_Oh, yes. Definitely not a violent person._ The voice sniggered.

Before Hermione could continue conversing with her inner Snape, the bag was ripped off of her head and she was thrown into a chair.

Hermione blinked.

The rest of the female population of Hogwarts blinked back at her.

"Ahem. Right. Thank you Millicent." Katie Bell said as she headed for the chair sat at the front of the room, next to where a Slytherin girl (Tracey? Stacey? Tratey?) was busy unpacking a scroll and several bottles of ink and correspondingly coloured quills.

"Hear ye, Hear ye! This, the thirty-thousand-two-hundred-twenty-six-and-a-quartert-th, I have got the right number right, Tracey? Yes? Okay, ahem. This meeting is now in session- yes, I know I should _technically_ say it again but, look, you can just write it in can't you? Bloody hell! It's an HWA meeting not a bloody government one... Please don't make me say it again?" Katie was practically begging Tracey by now, who finally gave in and didn't make her repeat it despite her eye roll.

Hermione frowned at this scene.

This was... the most comfortable trouble she'd ever ended up in. The chair she was sat in was plain and wooden, but the rest of the room was singularly luxurious.

Everything was covered in velvet and silk and glitter.

Hell, the rest of the girls were all lounging about on couches and chaise lounges and other furniture types that she couldn't even begin to pronounce. And despite the fact that there was some pink, the rest of the colours tended to be more house neutral- like purples and creams.

And all the girls were dressed to the tees, in pretty cocktail dresses that would have rendered the male portion of the population speechless.

"Right. This meeting of the Hogwarts Women's Association is now in session!"

And with that the entire room turned to stare at Hermione Granger.

**A/N:** Uh, oh Hermione, what have you gotten yourself into? I hope _someone_ gets the Bleach reference here...

Also, I moved the whole ministry-Prophecy thing to the gang's fourth year. I'm not sure that I'm going to go explain it all in this story. I might just write a bunch of one-shots to give details. I dunno.

That said- Harry will be talking later on, and more of his history will be revealed if you'd just hang in there with me. The story starts off slow, and it's frustrating because I want to get to all the 'good bits' as much as the next person, but we need to get the basics down before we get to the action.

Thank you _so_ much for all of your reviews, alerts and favourites! It makes me do funny dances in the hallways of my uni as I look for signal and then do little happy dances when I get the e-mails. My maths lecturer thinks that I'm completely bonkers.

This coming from a lady who _snuggles up _with her maths texts.

I kid you not.


	5. The trial of Hermione Jean Granger

**A/N 1: Okay- this is the informational, educational chapter you've all been waiting for. If this isn't your kind of thing then you may skip it. Though then you can't blame me for feeling lost and confused. **

**Chapter 4**

"Please state your name for the record."

"I... uh... what?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"State your name for the record- or should we take this as a sign that you are unwilling to co-operate?"

"Wha- Katie, what is going on here?"

"Shush! Here, we question _you_. Not the other way around- now state your bloody name!"

"Er..." Best to humour the crazies, she supposed. "Hermione Granger."

"Is that your full name?" Tracey asked her, a knowing glint in her eyes.

"Uhm... Hermione Jean Granger..."

"Right. Now that that's out of the way... Cho! Li! You may now question the subject."

Suddenly Hermione found herself flanked by two Chinese girls. "Uh, hi."

"'Uh, hi'? Is that how you got Mister Potter to date you? Your _witty_ conversation starters?" Cho asked casually.

"Or did you seduce him using less legal means... like a love potion?" Li accused, turning Hermione's chair to face her.

A titter of female voices followed this statement.

"I... what? We're not dating!" Hermione cried.

"Ha! A likely story girl!" Li challenged.

"No! No! You have the wrong idea- we're just friends!"

"Hermione," Cho said in a sympathetic voice, "I'd like to believe you but you have to admit... the evidence does seem to be stacked against you..."

"Wh-what evidence?" Hermioned asked incredulously.

"What evidence? How about your guilty conscience for one? Not enough for you? Then I present The People's Exhibit A: photographs of yourself and Mister Potter sitting in a highly intimate pose behind the greenhouses this afternoon."

There was a ruffling sound, punctuated with little exclamations and chittering conversations as the photographs were distributed. Finally Li shoved the pictures in front of Hermione.

She recognized the pictures.

They depicted the position the two of them had been in that afternoon.

"We... We were just hanging out together! He was having a smoke before we went to the library for reasearch! It was completely platonic!"

"Oh really? Care to prove that?" Li sneered at her.

"Oh, come now. I'm sure she has a reasonable explanation for that picture..." Cho tutted.

"Yes! I do- he was comforting me! Harry's like my brother!"

"Oh really. Does that explain the amount of hours you spend with him per week? I present to you People's Exhibit B: a log of the average amount of hours you and Mister Potter spend in each other's company each week, arranged by year!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows at this statement before Li shoved the papers into her face as well. They were actually eerily accurate when Hermione thought about it...

"Hey! This is creepy! Who's been watching us this intently?"

"That is not something you need to know. I assume from your reaction that these are accurate?"

"Well, they seem to be..."

"Oh, so you keep records of how long you and Mister Potter spend in each other's presence?"

"Wha-? No! I don't, but I have a pretty good internal clock and... Wait! What's going on here?"

"Hermione, relax. We just need to know whether you and Harry are a couple?"

"No! We're not!"

"Prove it, Granger." Li hissed.

"I... how?"

"Madame President- if I may lead the witness with a few key questions?" Cho asked, Katie nodded. "Okay, Hermione. First things first: How did you and Harry get so close? I mean a Gryffindor and a Slytherin- it's hardly a common occurrence now is it?"

"Well... No. I guess not. To be honest, I didn't even _notice _him those first few months in first year. He was like a shadow of some kind. If he had been a bit paler I would have thought he was a ghost. But then I kind of noticed him when we reached for the same book- it was a copy of an extracurricular book on Runes, far above first year standard.

Well, we kind of got to talking then, about the book and academics. It never really crossed my mind that he was Slytherin..."

"Wait- he _can_ talk?" Angelica asked in shocked tones.

"Well, yes. But he apparently has a throat injury- I've seen the scar, it looks terrible- and it makes him shy of how his voice sounds. Not to mention that it apparently really hurts..."

"Well, well, well! Hit me in the knees with a garden gnome!" Katie whistled.

"So, that's how you met?"

"Uh, well, yes. It was during a really bad time. Ron and Neville weren't talking to me after the whole Fluffy incident..."

"Dare we ask?" Li muttered from her side.

"Well- Fluffy is a huge three headed dog that Hagrid kept. It was guarding... Uhm..."

"Do not lie to us Miss Granger! Or we will make your life hell!" Li immediately jumped at her.

"That not being the point here!" Hermione pointed out. "The point is, we got to talking and we talked until Filch came stalking into the library..."

"Aw, you got locked in the library together... I can just imagine it." Cho grinned at her.

"Pity she isn't making much of a case here..." Li grinned maliciously.

"The point is- Filch came, and Harry managed to sneak us both out of there." _It's how we found out he can turn others invisible when he really needs to._ Hermione thought to herself. "And over the next six weeks we just kept on reading and working and talking together. He was a really good listener, and I was a kid with way too much to say."

"Well, obviously nothing's changed there." Pansy snorted in amusement.

"Oh, yes, ha-bloody-ha!" Hermione growled at her. "But the point is- we just kind of fit together. We were both reading tomes far beyond our year level, and we were both misfits. None of you can deny those facts!"

There was a muttered agreement amongst the girls.

"And then, when the troll invaded the castle... well. Harry hadn't seen me at dinner, and he was worried. So he snuck out early and performed a basic tracking spell to find me in the girls' lavatory."

"Woah, woah- wait. The most basic tracking spell available is third year level. Are you trying to tell me you guys were mucking about with that stuff already?" Katie asked, a dangerous gleam in her eye.

"Well... Yes."

"Okay. Millie, darling, hit her. On the arm yes- oh, fine, the left one. No, no- her left not mine. Not too hard mind you, just hard enough to get the message across..."

"OW! What was that for?"

"Because! Why do you think you're not taught every spell simultaneously? Or taught to summon something earlier in your school career, hm?"

"... Because that's the curriculum...?"

"Yes- but _why_ is that the curriculum? Why not just teach you all the summoning spells in one great lump? Because- and listen closely- you mature magically. Just like you age physically and emotionally, your magical core still grows and matures. If you go putting too much strain on it too early you can end up a bloody squib! It's very dangerous!"

"... Oh." Hermione gulped.

"Oh. That's what the girl says- Millie, punch her again. This time I want her to be a little bit bruised, but not enough for it to actually form a bruise. Wow- you are good girlfriend! Okay- continue Hermione."

"Where was I? Somewhere between punches I kinda got lost." Hermione said, glaring at Katie as she rubbed her injured arm.

"You said, and I quote: 'So he snuck out early and performed a basic tracking spell to find me in the girls' lavatory', unquote." Tracey stated in a monotone.

"Right. So, there we were: Harry trying to console me, and I was crying my eyes out. Then suddenly there's a roar in the doorway and this huge troll is standing there and giving us the evil eye. I was so scared I screamed like a little girl, and Harry just sort of stood there paralyzed. But when the thing came charging at us Harry went charging right back at it! And he managed to get himself onto its head, clinging on for dear life, and then he punched the troll so hard he _broke his hand_ against its thick skull!"

A gasp came from her audience, Hermione was really getting into this now.

"Anyways, that at least made the troll roar in anger and it plucked Harry right off of its head. But Harry wasn't going down without a fight so he bit the blaggart's finger and there was blood spurting from it! That's when I realized I had to do something- so I used the wingarium leviosa spell to knock it out with its own wooden bat."

There were noises of approval and scattered applause at that statement. Hermione blushed- she wasn't used to getting any kind of approval from her peers like this.

It felt good.

"Well, well, well. I guess there's nothing like defeating a mountain troll to cement a friendship, huh?" Cho grinned at her.

"Or a blossoming attraction!" Li accused.

"Oh come now! It's not like that."

"Really? Then why did only Gryffindor house lose and _gain_ points after that debacle?"

"Oh, that was because Professor Snape was the first teacher to find us..."

Absolute horror met this statement- even from the Slytherins.

"Wow. So _that's_ what earned him detention for the next three months... with Professor Snape..." Millie murmured softly.

"Uh, yes. Well. Professor Snape found us, gave me a tongue lashing until Professor McGonnagal got there- with Ron and Neville who she'd caught on their way to come and save me- and then he sort of smuggled Harry out underneath his billowing robes..."

"Huh. He seems to do that a lot with troublesome Firsties..." Pansy smirked, before stroking a little squirter bottle she had with her.

It was disturbing.

"Alright...So then what happened. I mean- we all know that the Golden Trio got into a boatload of trouble, but what _exactly _happened?" Cho interjected.

"Well... it was really a blur from there on... But Neville saw that Professor Snape was bitten in the leg by Fluffy, then Neville and Ron thought that Professor Snape must have been behind the entire scheme- but he wasn't! And then Harry helped me to get some research done, since Neville and Ron don't really like that sort of thing and then the whole Quirrel incident happened and then it was the end of the year and we'd won the house cup!"

"... Wow, Hermione, breathe!" Cho declared at the end of this.

"Sorry..." Hermione wheezed.

"Okay... but then, after the summer holidays, hadn't the whole thing cooled down?"

"Well... Second year was kind of weird. We were kind of awkward friends, see. We each had our own friends from our own Houses... So we were friendly, but not all that close. Then the attacks started, and Harry got _really_ paranoid. He couldn't properly divide his time between myself and Daphne and Millie and it really got to him. He was driving himself insane. And then one night I had a brainwave and I went to do my research alone and there Harry was already- and boy did he chew me out for walking around alone. When I finally got him to calm down I told him about the Bassilisk and he told me that he had figured out that someone was being possessed.

And then he did something I know still haunts him: he let me make my way to the tower alone while he sleuthed around for the possessed student.

I got attacked by the Bassilisk that night. And the rest is just kind of blurs and sounds... though I hear he saved Neville's life that time around."

"What? How?" Katie asked, obviously hanging onto her words as much as the rest of the girls.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. Neither of them really talk about it- but I do know Neville's never trusted him since."

"Oooooooooh..." The room went.

"Anyway, when I woke up from the cure Harry was there by my bedside with apologies and a huge bunch of flowers and a box of Honeydukes' chocolates. Which he apparently had to beat Draco Malfoy at poker in order to get the money for them."

"Why? I mean, the Potters were a respected family with enough money to look after him for."

"Oh! I know the answer!" Ginny Weasley said- despite the fact that she still looked pale at the mention of her first year escapades.

"Okay then Ginny- educate us." Katie smiled at her.

"Well, the fact of the matter is that all the money any of us is left by a family member goes into trust. This trust is taken care of by an executor- a goblin from Gringotts. This goblin then keeps it in a high interest account for you until you start attending Magical School. Through a series of very complicated calculations the goblin works out how much you need to survive a school year- for books, wands, stationery, etc- factoring in the interest rate until you leave school, so he pays you out seven equivalent payments during your school years. After you graduate, the rest of the account is entrusted to you."

"Wow... That sounds complicated..."

"Yeah, well. Bill was better at explaining it than I was..."

"No, no. It kind of makes sense now..." Daphne mused.

"Anyways- get to the juicy part! What happened after he brought you goodies?" Cho asked.

"Nothing. But he was just so sorry and upset that I realized that, at the very least, he considered me his friend..."

"Awwwwww...!"

"And then in third year, well. That was a hectic year."

"Yeah- didn't Neville get abducted by that supposedly dead guy? During that weird attack on the castle's wards?"

"Well, yes. It turned out to just be a diversion- remember? Anyways, Ron and I got managed to get in the way so we got kidnapped too , and we all ended up in a graveyard. Apparently Vol-"

A sharp intake of breath.

"-demort had us brought there in order to use Neville's blood to create himself a new body. One that could actually touch Neville. However Harry had managed to follow us all, since his first thought had been that I was missing and he needed to come and find me. So while Harry managed a diversion, Ron managed to get himself and then us free.

So we ran. Luckily Harry had managed to get hold of a portkey, and so we all three got back to Hogwarts relatively in one piece. It was horrible though. I still have nightmares about that place sometimes."

"... Where did Harry get a portkey?"

"Huh. Good luck trying to get that out of him- I've been trying for years now, but he's just completely mum on the subject." Hermione shrugged.

"And that obviously made you closer." Cho stated.

"Well, obviously. I mean- he's always looking out for me..."

"Huh. I don't believe that You-Know-Who is back. There would have been some clues- a lot more destruction and mayhem." Pancy huffed.

"Now is not the time for this discussion. Besides- I believe Hermione, Neville Ron _and_ Harry." Katie said simply.

"Okay- what about last year. That whole department of mysteries thing."

"Well... that's more complicated. You see- remember Professor Moody?"

"Crazy as a drunken house elf." Li stated simply.

"Yeah- he also kidnapped Neville again."

"What? Man- Neville gets kidnapped more times than a princess in some sappy fairytale!" Angelina said, her hands held up in exhasperation.

Hermione laughed. "Harry said, and I quote: 'Longbottom puts the "damn" in damsel in distress'".

Laughs followed this before Katie called everyone to order again, and gestured for Hermione to continue.

"Well, in Neville's defense: Moody- or the man posing as Moody rather- spent the entire year gaining Neville's trust. And then he offered to give him the extra lessons in Defense that Dumbledore insisted on... Well. It was just too easy to kidnap him and it wasn't until Moody didn't pitch for class the next day that we figured out that something was wrong... some friends we are huh?

In any case, we finally figured out that something was wrong. And then Harry- Merlin alone knows how- finds out about the prophecy and how it's kept in the Department of Mysteries. So we decide to call a truce in order to go get Neville back."

"But he could have been somewhere else!" Pansy argued.

"It was the only lead we had, and Harry seemed pretty adamant about it." Hermione shrugged.

"Maybe he was blessed with an inner eye..." Parvati Patil sighed dreamily.

"Well, whatever it may be, we managed to corral some thestrals and get to the Ministry on them. When we got there... well. We thought it might be too late, since Neville had been tortured until he was nearly catatonic.

But we managed to get the prophecy- Harry broke it in a scuffle with a Death Eater- and we managed to get Neville out of there and back to school."

"Wait- why did Harry and Ron call a truce?"

"Uhm... It was more like Harry walked up to Ron, put a knife to his throat and said that since I was bound to go haring off into this situation he was going along to protect me since Ron couldn't even protect himself, nevermind anyone else."

"Shouldn't Neville be more grateful to him then?" Pansy asked.

"Uhm, Neville kind of blames Harry... he thinks Harry is another Death Eater sent to befriend and then betray him."

_Ouch._ She thought as she saw the room wince in sympathy for her friend.

"Okay- one last question." Cho said.

"Sure." Hermione shrugged again.

"Can I date him?" Cho asked her.

"Uhm... sure. If Harry would like to... why would I have a problem with it? We're _just friends_."

"Madame Chair Person, would this be enough to convince my contemporaries that Miss Granger is innocent?"

"Hm. Councillors, to me. We shall see." Several girls- mostly Ravenclaw seventh years- immediately surrounded Katie and started whispering in her ears.

Cho gave her a bracing smile and a pat on her shoulder. "There, there. I'm sure that they'll believe you..."

"Uhm, Cho... I'm kind of confused here... what is this place?"

"Oh, that! The Hogwarts Women's Association! As founded by Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff themselves!"

"... I thought that was just an urban legend..."

"Oh no, no."

"We have come to a decision!" Katie's voice rang out over the chattering which had started.

"Wow. That was quick- I take it back. You're probably screwed." Cho said.

"I- Uh- what?"

"The decision is thusly: Miss Granger, you are to swear off any type of romantic relationship with Mister Potter. Both present and future. You will not run interference in any attempts of any other person in Hogwarts attempting to woo Mister Potter. Your hours will be carefully watched to ensure that the amount of hours the two of you spend do not increase more than alotted by your new" -and here Katie actually used air quotes- "research project. This is the Council's decision. Do you agree to these terms?"

"Uhhhhhhhh..."

"Go for it! You won't get a better deal!" Cho whispered in her ear.

"Too bloody good for you!" Li hissed into the other.

"... Alright...?"

"Great! That's lovely then. Spot of brilliance from us all I think. Miss Li- I believe you will be able to give us and Hermione a good time allotance? Yes? Brilliant. Hm, you may leave Hermione. Sorry about the heatedness of this discussion, but it was really quite a shock to us all, so we just really needed to clear this little mess up. So glad we could. Have a cupcake! Okay then, ta! Enjoy your evening!"

And with that Hermione found herself having been ushered out of the door, standing in a hallway clutching at a pink sparkly cupcake.

That was... weird. No other word for it.

At least the cupcake was good.

**A/N 2:** Phew! This chapter was really challenging to write. It went through a couple of rewrites until I finally decided to just post the damned thing. Nine pages of information- that's a lot of info to condense... So? Love it? Hate it? Bored to death? Think I should just burn it?

Yum- cupcakes.

Please note that the HWA is a plot device to make certain informational things a bit more interesting for you to read and me to write. After all, you need a bit of comic relief every now and then. This is in no way meant to be taken seriously. And it means to harm to women anywhere. Alrighty? Alrighty.


	6. In which a lot is noted

**Chapter 5:**

Harry sighed as he looked at his Ancient Runes Study Guide.

He knew it was a very good subject to have in conjunction with arithmancy- Merlin alone knew he'd gotten that lecture enough times... it was just that it was so dull it made the thought of listening to Mister Gregg from the Claw and Dragon tell him about his days as a muggle fisherman seem _again_ seem like a very viable option.

Another sigh as he thunked his head onto the table.

Dry. Dry, dreary, utterly devoid of anything but mindless scribbling... and that was only the first page. Who cared that a unicorn stood for 'one'? Who?

The scrape of a chair had him looking up in the hopes of seeing Daphne or Millie there so that he could leave everything Rune related and help them with their potions essays... But instead he found himself blinking at a very paranoid looking Hermione.

_Shit. She's gonna make me do the runes work..._ Was his first thought. Quickly followed by: _Wait- shouldn't she be doing Weasley and Longbottom's homework for them? _His instinct quickly took over and he scanned the library for any threats, his previous lethargy completely evaporating.

'Are you ok?' he scribbled on a piece of scrap parchment.

"Uh, me? I... think so..." There was a dazed look he didn't like and he gave her a hard stare. "Oh, no, I'm not _hurt_ or anything! I just... I think I just got kidnapped by an urban legend..."

'What, like the HWA?' He scribbled jokingly.

"You knew they existed?" She asked, wide eyed and hushed.

'Uhm, Mione, they're nothing but a legend...'

"No! It's not! I just got _kidnapped_ by them! And then they threw me out! Though they did give me a very good cupcake..."

'… That's it. I'm taking you to see the nurse...'

"No! Really! They were all over me and Cho was playing good cop and that Li Su girl from arithmancy was playing bad cop and they wanted to know about this afternoon and whether we were dating and then they forbade me from ever having anything but a platonic relationship with you!"

Harry raised his brows at her in a clear 'Really' gesture.

"I'm not crazy damn you!"

'Then why aren't you in the HWA? Something you're not telling me here Mione?'

"Well... No... I mean... I couldn't have dreamt it- my imagination isn't that good!"

Another look from Harry had her deflating before she grinned in triumph and put the sparkly pink wrapper from the cupcake onto the table.

"Ha! Proof I wasn't dreaming!"

'So you mean to say that there is a powerful organization at work within these walls that consists entirely of females?'

"Yes!"

'well that's good then.' Harry wrote, punctuating it with a decisive nod of his head.

"Yes, well, I... what? What do you mean by 'that's good then'?"

Harry sighed before pulling out a new piece of parchment. 'It's just good to know that there is a sensible, mature organization that is running Hogwarts behind the scenes. After all, men are ruled by testosterone. We tend to get violent, women tend to talk things out.' He shrugged it in her direction, and Hermione got a sort of far away look.

The one she always got when she was puzzling something out.

"You know, Harry, you're right. I mean, I'm pretty sure that even now they're talking about sensible issues facing the population of this castle with the whole Triwizard Tournament thing."

Harry grinned and nodded at her.

"Yes, you're right. And they weren't even violent when they kidnapped me! Proof that this _is_ a good thing!"

A more enthusiastic nod from Harry and Hermione smiled at him.

"Thanks Harry. Sometimes I get so lost in this quagmire of trashy testosterone that I forget that women are resourceful, intelligent beings that have always run things behind the scenes."

Another nod of his head and then Hermione was grabbing his Runes textbook.

"Righty! Let's see how far you've gotten with tomorrow's lesson..."

A thunk as Harry's head hit the table again had Hermione fussing over him and telling him how many brain cells he was killing off.

Meanwhile, in the shadows, Li Su narrowed her eyes and scribbled something onto her notepad. "Not a good start, Granger. Not. A. Good. Start."

Suddenly Hermione went completely silent. Harry gave her a little prod in her shoulder and she seemed to deflate.

"Hey- why do you think _I'm_ not in the HWA?"

HP-BaB-HP

There was indeed, quite a lot of talking going on in the HWA meeting.

However, it seemed to be skirting the issue of the Triwizard Tournament with a deliberateness that was almost forced.

"Yes, Draco is still quite the catch...Looks wise anyways." Katie agreed with Hannah Abbott. "But his personality is just plain atrocious."

"Yes, I'm trying out behaviour modification on the Firsties- trying to make them more trainable you see?" Pansy told a curious Cho.

"And? Do you think it's working?" The Chinese girl asked.

"Well, it's early days yet. But I think it's having an effect..."

"I was hoping to try out for the team this year." Ginny Weasley complained to Angelina.

"Oh- that would have been so awesome! I think you have a great build for seeker- and let's face it. With Harry bloody Potter around we _need_ a good seeker..."

The snatches of unorganized conversation continued thusly- carefully avoiding _that_ subject.

That is, until Tracey Davis heaved a long suffering sigh and cleared her throat.

"So: who's _not_ excited about this Tournament thing?"

An uncomfortable silence blanketed the room.

"Oh, come _on_ you guys! It's not going to be that bad!" Hannah tried to force a smile.

"Not that bad- not that bloody bad?" Daphne burst out. "I don't know. If all of our previous years are something to go by, and You-Know-Who really is out there, then this is a huge security risk!"

"That's true- especially since so few people know and believe that he's returned..." Susan Bones mused.

"Now, now ladies. Look: You-Know-Who has kept pretty quiet so far. So who's to say that he'll try anything with this Tournament? That would kind of ruin his whole cloak and dagger routine, right? Especially since the ministry will be here regulating everything..." Mandy Brocklehurst soothed.

"Good point, Mandy." Katie nodded at the girl. "Security will be tighter here than ever before, so the odds are nothing will get through..."

"But there will be a bunch of strangers who will be coming to live amongst us for the year." Pansy pointed out. "One of them could be here as a spy for You-Know-Who."

"For that matter, I think we should get a foe glass and use it to go check the new DADA teacher..." Marietta Edgecombe said uneasily.

There was momentary silence as everyone took in this information.

"Fuck." Tracey muttered. "We are _so_ screwed."

HP-BaB-HP

Viktor Krum grinned as he mounted his broom.

This was _his_ territory. Here he shone. He wasn't gangly and flatfooted and clumsy and ungainly here, no. here he crushed any opposition.

And the opposition would be crushed.

Sure, he'd not won the duelling competition (his footwork was only good enough to get him into the quarter finals), and he'd landed dead last in the potions test(he was terrible at that subject), and he'd been barely beaten in the spells area.

But no one would beat him in the flying challenge.

He would be visiting Britain for the second time. And this time he would win again.

Okay, so he was a little bit competitive. But what was life if you didn't play to win? If he hadn't steadfastly clung to his dreams to be a professional quidditch player, he would never have made it.

Viktor Krum worked hard when he wanted something.

His work ethic tended to pay off.

Not only in quidditch, but in his studies as well.

Even with the year he'd taken off of school for the World Cup, he'd managed to keep his grades high enough to get into a well respected community college for a diploma in Magical Sports Management when he'd completed his schooling- which had made his parents far more proud than when he'd made the National Quidditch team.

He understood their reasoning very well- they had explained it to him. And it had allowed him to make his decisions with his future in mind.

But nothing would _ever_ conquer his love for flying.

"_All flyers to the starting point!" _Professor Arnaut shouted.

Krum smiled at the rest of his classmates, before pulling to a stop mere feet from the professor. Arnaut just gave him a weak glare, far too used to him by now to really have any bite in it.

"_Ready- steady- GO!" _Arnaut swept his hand downwards and then it was just Krum and the obstacle course in front of him.

The first obstacle was ten poles that the flyers were supposed to weave through, and Viktor laughed delightedly as he weaved around them- upside down on his broom. Yes, it was showing off, but this was where he felt comfortable.

This was what he loved.

Next there were ten hoops on ten different levels- each a little smaller than the last- that they had to fly through.

Viktor did little loops through them, effortlessly staying in the lead.

Then he had to catch ten balls thrown at him by children from the lower years and put them each through their respective hoops (also on different levels and of decreasing size).

It took him, maybe, five seconds?

Another obstacle- this time dodging flying debris, then a quick loops of the qudditch field and Viktor Krum stopped inches in front of his Professor's face again.

"_Very funny Mister Krum. Still. Krum wins! You will be sailing with all the other contenders. Now get out of my face please!"_

Looking over his shoulder, Krum grinned to see that the next in line was only now entering the quidditch pitch again.

Oh yes, he loved flying.

And he was fucking good at it.

HP-BaB-HP

_Thunder crashed. _

_Lighting split the sky. _

_The rain drummed incessantly onto the thatch of the roof. _

_Wait- a thatch roof? Why was there...? _

_Another flash of lightning blinded him. _

_And then there was something crawling on him, something long and slimy. Harry tried to bat it away but it caught his hand. _

_A pinprick of pain. _

_Which became a tearing feeling and suddenly the world's spinning all around him and he can't seem to stop it. A deep seated nausea makes itself known. _

_He lands on the floor with a thud. Cobwebs assail him and when he finally manages to swipe them away, he realizes he recognizes the cramped space around him. _

_The closet the Dursleys kept him in for seven years. _

_His next breath dies in his constricting throat. _

_The smell of desperation still clings to it. The little marks he made to count out the days of his punishment. The mattress where he had to stifle his childish cries. The book of fairytales he saved from the trashcans- that he'd taught himself to read and believe. _

_It had taken him a while to realize that only princesses got saved from the dragon. _

_And only the princes ever got the princesses. _

_The rest of the world had to save themselves, make do with what they got. The Dursleys were his dragon and his alone. So when he'd gotten the chance to go- he'd run as far as he could on his short legs could carry him. _

_But this place... this place would always haunt him. _

_The appeals for help. _

_The need for love, for attention. _

_For a sign that he was something. _

_Someone. _

_To not have the Dursleys warn him not to speak to anyone, or have them use him as the butt of their jokes. Not to be the one they took their anger out on. _

_Harry flinched at the phantom sound of a belt hitting sensitive flesh. _

_'You want to cry boy? I'll give you a reason to cry!'_

_Tang of blood. _

_'SHUT UP!'_

_Smell of piss. _

_'BAD BOY!'_

_Crack of bone. _

The alarm had Harry sitting up with a gasp and before conciousness fully kicked in he ran into the bathroom.

His dinner had decided to pay him a visit.

Damned nightmares. They were getting more personal.

As Harry leaned his feverish head against the cool of the toilet bowl he knew that today was going to be hell.

HP-BaB-HP

**A/N 2:** Finally! We're getting into a bit of a plot here. It's not quite going to be thick yet, but important things are happening. Next chapter will be flashing forward in time a bit.

Thank you all SO much for your reviews! Even if I couldn't respond to them all this week (I was writing chemistry... and I royally suck at chemistry.) they still made me grin like a loon.

And to those who wondered how I know my math lecturer snuggles her textbook at night... -Waggles eyebrows suggestively- Ahem. No- she told us all that she does. And then promptly encouraged us to do the same... XD


	7. Dungeon Bats and Singles Cruises

**WARNING**: The first part of this chapter contains scenes of a disturbing nature. It deals with child molestation. If this squicks you, then skip to the second part.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6:<strong>

_Silence._

_Thick and syrupy, the silence surrounds him. _

_The smell of dust and dung permeate the air that he breathes. There is a chirping of crickets and the low sound of cows. _

_Harry takes a deep breath and tries to open his eyes..._

_That's when something hits him in the solar plexus- sending him spiralling out of control. _

_The feeling of spinning stops just in time for him to retch onto the floor. A hand across his mouth to wipe the bile from his mouth, and Harry thinks that it's probably not a good thing that he's so used to waking up in his own vomit by now. _

_His green eyes take in the alleyway he's landed in... and his heart plummets into his shoes. _

_He knows this place. _

"_There now, that's a good boy. Eat it all up." Says a cultured, soothing voice. _

"_Thank you, sir." The scrawny boy says, his green eyes wide with a touch of hero worship. _

"_Hm, yes. I do believe that thanks are in order- though the words seem old and stale do they not?" The man says, straightening his suit jacket. _

_The little boy cocks his head up at the well dressed man. "But 'thank you' is all I have, sir." _

"_Hm. I think you underestimate yourself boy." The man reached out a pale hand and stroked his cheek. Little Harry's eyes went a bit wide, but were still trusting. _

"_Sir?" _

"_You're such a pretty little boy..." The man softly intones._

_And Harry wants to scream, wants to put his hands to his ears and warn himself. Wants to forget about this- needs to push it deeper into his subconcious, needs to get away..._

"_I- what?"_

_The man, all elegant refinement and Armani suits smiles at the boy and moves his hand down to take the boy's. "I have an apartment near here, with space for good little boys with pretty eyes. Would you like to live in an apartment... Harry?" _

"_What? Me, sir? Really?" _

"_Of course Harry- pretty little boys like you shouldn't be running around the streets like this." And then he leans down to brush his lips against the boy's._

"_You- no!" The boy tries to turn and run. _

"_Now you little-! I've been feeding you for months now! You owe me!" The man grabs him around his waist and yanks him flush against his body. "Such a pretty little boy... Like I said: these streets are dangerous for little boys. Come to my apartment and we can play some nice games in front of the fire..." _

"_No! No! Let me go!" The boy was screaming and banging his fists against the man. _

"_Stop it!" The man snarls- delivering a brutal blow to the back of the boy's head, leaving him with a dazed look. _

_And Harry knows what's coming next... _

_Being dragged to that filthy hole... the searing pain as his nine year old body is invaded... the blood and the dust and the feeling of being choked... of being _used_... of having his innocence ripped forcefully away from him... the filth he could never seem to get off... it never seemed to come out... the bathtub he's chained in... the fear of every little sound, afraid that it heralds the arrival of his tormentor, afraid that it heralds another round... _

_So afraid. _

_So alone. _

_Hurts so much. _

_Tears streak down his face as he tries to ignore the images, tries to ignore what's going to happen next, tries to pretend it isn't happening again in the supposed safety of his head. _

_Another round of retching. _

_But there is nothing but bile to make the trip. _

_And then there is a voice- the same soft female voice- and a light chases the alley away. _

"_Oh, you poor dear." _

_A soft hand runs through his hair, and though he can't see anything in the blinding light he knows that she's kneeling down next to him. _

"_Wake up, Heir of the Lotus Tree!"_

His next blink is into the real world, and he knows he's a mess. The stench of vomit is all around him, and he's curled into a pathetic ball with tears running down his face. A broken sob, followed by another, and then a keening sort of sound that was so pathetic it made him grateful for the fact that all Slytherin dorms had silencing charms on them.

For the first time since the night of his nightmare, Harry Potter cried.

HP-BaB-HP

Miranda Vector yawned.

Another sleepless night working with Bathsheba on the castle's new wards, getting them to allow the Beaubaxtons and Durmstrang guests and their transports in. Why couldn't they just have done this in the summer?

Oh. Right. Bathsheba had been on some singles cruise- something about needing to get a life. And Merlin damn it- Albus had given the woman the ticket!

So what if it had been her birthday? Miranda had a very important vector brewing at the moment, and all Albus had done was to give her a little shrug and say 'Dear Miranda, the woman works hard enough as it is. I'm certain it won't take much time, you have more than nine weeks to modify the wards after all.'.

What the hell kind of boss did she work for?

Never mind. She didn't really want an answer to that one.

"Miranda!" She was brought out of her musings to see Aurore Sinistra snapping her fingers in front of her face. She looked better than Miranda thought anyone had the right to look at this hour of the day- her wavy black tresses spilling perfectly over her shoulders and her teaching robes looking spick and span.

Miranda, on the other hand, knew that her curls were scattered all around her head, and her robes were covered in chalk and dust.

"Oh, er, hi Rore. How you doing?"

Aurore rolled her eyes at her before tucking Miranda's arm into the crook of hers. "Better than you, I think. How are the... erm, 'special projects' coming along?"

"Oh! That! Yes, well, they are coming. Although..." And here Miranda frowned.

"What? There aren't any problems are there?"

"Well... actually, it's a lot more complicated than we could have predicted. I mean, there are a bunch of strange circles that are interlinked with the actual wards we know, so we're stuck trying to figure out what the weird circles were meant to do... Luckily we've managed a temporary sort of symbiosis... we think... good thing we still have a week before the guests arrive... although that time is starting to seem woefully inadequate... and I haven't even looked at my matrix in a week..."

"Well, that's alright then. I always know you'll come through. I mean, you _are_ the most brilliant Arithmancer in the world!"

"I-! What? No I'm not! There are many great arithmancers out there!"

"I never said that we lacked great aritmancers, I merely said you were the best."

"Stop it Rore, you're making me blush!"

"False modesty does not become any one, Vector. And with your rather... lacking favourable attributes you can hardly afford to become any less attractive." A voice sneered from behind them.

"... _You_? You're calling me ugly?" Miranda turned around and poked him in the chest. "You? The bat of the dungeons?"

Snape grabbed her hand and smirked down at her. "Bats are able to find mates. What do lonely little numbers do?"

"... They combine to form lovely matrices of light!"

"And yet, they always stand still. Can a one become a two? Or keep its identity whilst being added to another number? No?"

"Grah! You! I... what is your problem with me?"

"Tsk. I have no problem with you. The choice to go on a _singles cruise_ merely reeks of desperation. Another unattracative quality." Snape growled at her before letting go of her hand and sweeping off into the corridor towards the Great Hall.

Aurore stood there with her eyebrows reaching into her hair line.

"Why... That... That! Can you _believe_ that... that greasy, grubby, grotesque, barmy bat! That dungeon dwelling dimwit! That...! Wait- why are you looking at me like that?"

"He thought _you_ were the one that went on the singles cruise." Aurore said slowly.

"Well, yes! That just proves the dimwit part of my insult!" Miranda huffed. "Come on- I need a shower to get all that bat-guano he uses for brains off of me." She stormed off towards her rooms without pausing.

Aurore rolled her eyes. "He thought... oh, never mind! Let them figure it out for themselves Rore, don't meddle!"

HP-BaB-HP

Harry was dead on his feet.

This was his third day without sleep, and it was starting to show.

He'd been getting nothing more than nightmare-haunted sleep since the beginning of the term.

Dreading sleep so much that he now only went to bed every third night, then waking up a mere three hours later... He ached, he couldn't keep anything but toast down for a few hours, his face was a sickly sallow colour and he'd lost so much weight he was nothing but a skeleton.

And through it all he just felt... stretched.

Like a rubber band just before you shot it off at someone.

Too thin and too tightly wound to really _do_ anything but fly off into someone's eye.

And now he was desperately trying to stay awake and concentrate on the arithmancy test in front of him.

At least it was his last period. He could probably sneak off and try to have a nap until dinner...

Harry sighed, trying to concentrate, because yes this was important... but his eyes kept going over to Li Su.

She wasn't really writing her test with that much fury, but she was watching every move Hermione made.

Which was weird, because Li was generally the type to keep her nose firmly in her books. Harry cast a sideways glance at Hermione, who was so busy scribbling all over her answer scroll that she'd managed to get ink on her nose. Another look at Li revealed that she was now jotting something down with furious scribbles.

That was weird- especially after what Hermione had told him about in their first week back- six weeks ago.

Was Li Su watching her?

Did the HWA intend harm on her? Why would they? What could make a powerful organization keep an eye on someone as, well, semi-peaceful as Hermione?

He needed to get to the bottom of this. If the HWA presented a threat to his friend, he would need to neutralize them with immediate effect.

And no- his dream had not made him paranoid, thank you very much. He was always paranoid.

He had a strict policy against hurting women- made it his life's mission to make sure no one else did either- but he'd be damned if anyone got away with threatening his friend.

"Harry! No looking at the other students' work! Come on- I know you know this work, concentrate. Not that there's any use now- time's up! Send all your parchments over to Hermione." Professor Vector snapped at him. "Well, whatever was on your mind better be worth failing this test over, Harry. Detention with me tonight. You haven't been concentrating at all. I expect better- especially in O.W.L years!"

Harry just gave his professor a half-hearted glare, but she was too busy hurrying off to notice.

"You know Harry, she's right." Hermione said, worrying her lip between her teeth. "Usually you start to look better after the term starts- now you're just starting to look worse. Are you okay?"

Harry gave her a half-hearted smile, all the while eyeing Li Su's bag. He could probably snag whatever she was working on. But then how would he get it back? Definitely not with Hermione watching him- she tended to take exception to breaking rules/laws.

Hm. Could be a problem.

"Come on- let's get you some food." Hermione said, a determined look on her face. Harry let her steer him down to the kitchens, dutifully tickling the pear when Hermione realized she didn't actually know how to get in.

When they stepped into the kitchen, the entire place came to a standstill.

The house elves, it seemed, had not forgotten about S.P.E.W.

Neither had Hermione, because her eyes narrowed as she took in the scene.

"... House elves!"

"Clothes Lady!" Squeaked one of the little elves.

This seemed to have the effect of breaking whatever spell the house elves had been under since they immediately all scurried out of the way. Finally they were staring at an empty kitchen.

Hermione's lips were pursed, but Harry needed to sit down.

The dreams so far had been flashes of light and dark, nebulous, disappearing with the morning light. But that last dream... it had been as though it had been about to replay the whole thing in slow motion...

He'd been held in the bathroom of Tim's apartment for three months before he'd finally managed to use his magic to get the handcuffs that had held him to the exposed pipes in the wall off and climb out the window.

The flat had been on the third story, and Harry had slipped a story up, falling and breaking his arm.

But he'd been free.

Once he'd run away, he'd stashed the memories and figured that time would make them heal. Obviously it hadn't worked.

He hadn't been able to eat even some toast today.

Honestly, with everything he'd seen and done after that, it shouldn't seem that bad. But it _did_. And now he was here- exhausted and nauseous.

"Harry- I'll wait for you outside, since they don't seem to want to come out while I'm here. Get something to eat- okay? See you outside." He heard Hermione leave through the door and a few seconds later he heard a plate clatter in front of him.

"Nelly is seeing that Young Master is not eating today, so Nelly is giving him dry toast and tea. Is Nelly being good? Else Nelly will iron her ears!"

Harry just gave her a tired smile and sipped cautiously at the black tea. It did settle his stomach somewhat, and he continued to sip at it until it was all gone. By the time the toast had disappeared as well he was feeling much more human.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and grinned at the house elves, all of whom smiled back at him and tried to force treats onto him until he finally closed the portrait behind him.

Hermione had settled herself onto the floor, her runes text open and already half a parchment into their assignment when she looked up at him and smiled.

"Harry! Feeling better?"

He wanted to shoot her a grin- planned on it really- but his stomach got the better of him as he threw up again.

All over Hermione.

And then he was on his knees, the world twirling around him like a demented merry go 'round on speed. He heard a voice, vaguely...

Then it all went black.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Ugh. What a chapter to write- there are still bits that are bothering me but I've had a week from Hell and my boyfriend of three years dumped me last night. So. I figured I should just get this bloody thing up.

Thank you all SO MUCH for your reviews, alerts and favourites. They manage to make me smile even when I'm heartbroken.

I'm going to go curl up in a ball and cry some more now.


	8. Flirt Like a Slut

**Chapter 7**

_He wanted to shoot her a grin- planned on it really- but his stomach got the better of him as he threw up again._

_All over Hermione._

_And then he was on his knees, the world twirling around him like a demented merry go 'round on speed. He heard a voice, vaguely..._

_Then it all went black._

HP-BaB-HP

Hermione Granger found herself frantic.

_Calm down. Think rationally Hermione!_ She chided herself as she knelt by the prone form of Harry Potter. Panicking would do neither of them any good. But Harry was just lying there! She'd never seen him as anything but fierce and determined. Hell, it seemed that no matter what sort of trouble they managed to get into Harry just shook it off.

Even when he was injured he just disappeared for a few hours, and when he materialized he'd be right as rain again.

He'd never been to the infirmary in his entire school career.

So it was completely justifiable that Hermione was panicking.

Finally some sense seemed to kick in and she cast a quick _mobillicorpus_ on the unconcious boy, immediately heading for the infirmary and Madame Pomfrey's cool professionalism.

The castle seemed to feel her urgency, for all of the staircases aligned themselves to form the quickest way to her destination. When the doors of the infirmary appeared, she felt like crying in relief.

She burst through the doors as though the hounds of hell were on her heels.

"Madame Pomfrey! Help!"

The sound of hurried footsteps sounded near the nurse's office and soon the older lady came into sight.

"Miss Granger! This is a hosp- oh my! What is this?" The nurse gasped as she took in the sight of the girl covered in sick, trailing an unconcious brunette boy behind her.

"I don't know Madame! He... he wasn't looking well. I don't think he was eating or sleeping, I could tell he wasn't well so I took him to the kitchens to eat something and when he came out he threw up and then he passed out!" Hermione gasped desperately.

By this time the nurse had taken over the levitating spell and put Harry on a bed, her wand humming as she ran diagnostic spells on him.

"I need his name Miss Granger."

"Harry- Harry Potter."

The nurse made a sound of surprise, but didn't stop her diagnostics. Hermione fretted in the corner.

"Oh, Madame, will he be alright, I mean, this is all my fault I should have brought him earlier! I mean I saw that he wasn't eating and that he looked all tired and thin and..."

"Miss Granger- I need to concentrate and you need a shower before dinner. Go to your House and clean yourself girl."

"But..."

"Now Miss Granger."

"Yes ma'am." Hermione sighed as she left. She hardly knew where she was going. She was so distracted that she started when the Fat Lady asked her for the password.

She managed to somehow remember it, and so was let into her common room where the boys were sitting laughing.

"What the...? Hermione, you stink! Is that vomit? Ew." Typical Ron- insensitive as always.

"Yes."

"Well go shower. That smell makes me want to vomit."

Hermione needed no encouragement. She hurried up the stairs and into her room. Collecting a clean uniform she stepped into the bathroom. Lavender was doing her make-up, but she turned when Hermione came in and made a face.

"Ewww. What happened to you?"

"Harry... He collapsed."

"What? Why?" Lavender looked worried.

"I don't know. Madame Pomfrey is busy trying to find out, so she chased me out."

"Damn. Well, get showered I suppose. We'll check up on him after dinner."

"Are you going to tell the HWA?"

"No need. I'm sure Li Sue already knows."

"... What? How?"

"Tsk. You should know by now that Li knows everything."

"Oh."

"Get showered Hermione. Dinner's soon"

"Yes. Yes I suppose I should."

With a sigh Hermione turned on the shower, and began undressing throwing her soiled uniform into the laundry basket. When she was completely naked and certain that the water was warm enough she stepped under the spray.

She reached distractedly for the body wash and lathered it onto her loofah. She ran the loofah across her skin, over the swell of her breasts and her hips, her now lobster red skin being cleaned of the vomit and being replaced with the sweet smell of her strawberry body wash.

She worried about Harry the whole time.

When she finally stepped out of the shower the entire bathroom was steamed up. She wrapped a towel around her body and cleared a spot in the mirror, taking time to look at herself.

She looked like hell.

It almost made her reconsider Lavender's offer of a make-over. Almost. She just couldn't see herself with make-up on. She'd feel even more awkward than she already did. Her frizzy hair was just... part of her. Not to mention the fact that her time was better spent studying.

She had her brains, she didn't need to look good.

But oh, how she wished that she did. She wished to look good enough to catch Ron's eye. But no, she was just 'one of the boys'. Just the girl who did their homework and set up their study schedules and nagged at them to be safe, not to so anything stupid.

Hermione Granger was just a brain.

With short, heavy legs and too much puppy fat. Or at least she hoped it was puppy fat. Compared to the rest of the girls who roamed the halls of Hogwarts she was honestly not worth any boy's noptice.

No use complaining about it.

At least she had her brain.

HP-BaB-HP

Poppy Pomfrey regarded her patient with a trained healer's eye.

The boy was skeletally thin, and it got worse when she spelled him out of his clothes, allowing only a part of dignity to remain in tact as she had placed a towel over his most private parts.

The whir of her wand was the only sound in the room.

Taking in his body, she could see that the boy was thinner than could be seen through his school robes. But she could also see that if he was healthy he would have had quite the body, the remnants of hard musclular planes were clear to see.

Also plain to see was his collection of tattoos.

They were immediately confirmed by her diagnostics to be protective tattoos, with charms weaved into the pictures.

Some were more basic than others. Obviously as his knowledge of charms grew.

Impressive.

Poppy set to work cataloging them in his file. A Chinese style dragon circled his body, starting just below his belly button and swirling around his back with its head coming to rest finally just below his right collar bone. His left arm had tribal tattoo circling his bicep, and kanji on the inside of his wrist. His right arm bore a picture of a samurai, and another tribal design- this time of a tiger- was on his right side. When she turned him around she say the picture of a cherry blossom tree in delicate colours.

That was a lot of tattoos, she thought. What did the boy need that much protection for?

The chime of completed diagnostics from her wand brought her out of her reverie. Reading the results she breathed a sigh of relief.

It wasn't all that bad.

HP-BaB-HP

Daphne Greengrass was worried.

Harry wasn't at dinner. She wrung her hands together, unable to keep herself from fidgeting. Where was he? He knew they were supposed to always be present at meals. Professor Snape looked distinctly disgruntled- undoubtedly having noticed Harry's absence.

She caught Li Sue putting the final touches on a paper griffin. Said griffin was then sent on its way to the Slytherin table, caught effortlessly by Tracey. The girl in question deftly opened the magical note, squinted at the girl who had sent it over and, after receiving a shrug from said sender, turned a thoughtful look on Daphne.

There was something wrong with Harry.

The certainty hits her as soon as Tracey's eyes moved to give her that thoughtful stare. She stood up so quickly that she managed to upset several people's dinners- and attract the attention of a certain Head of House... or two.

She was just lifting her second leg over the bench, hell bent on getting to Harry, when common sense (and Professor Snape's glare) kicked in and she was forcefully dragged back down by Millie and Pansy.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Pansy hissed at her.

"Let go! Harry's in trouble!"

"Oh, really, it took you an entire dinner to figure that out?" The other girl snarked at her.

"... What? No! But Tracey-!"

"So you could wait three quarters of Dinner Time, but her getting a badly folded gryffin sets you off? I mean, I get pissed about poorly folded letters too- honestly, sometimes I swear my house elf is out to make a laughing stock of me- but that's hardly a reason to go haring off _now_."

"At the very least think about the consequences from the Professor." Millie added.

"Hm, yeah. Think of the _consequences_, Greengrass." Tracey's voice was so close, so suddenly that the other three girls whipped around in shock to see her sitting next to Mille- a full five seats closer than she had previously been sitting- and slowly licking the remains of her ice cream from a spoon.

"... Tracey! What's going on? What's wrong with Harry?" Daphne nearly strangled the other girl in her haste to hear what she knew.

Tracey merely dodged the other girl, before sitting back and taking a good look at her. "I don't know."

"WHAT?" The other three girls exclaimed.

"When dinner started the nurse was still running diagnostics on him. All we know is that he collapsed... and Granger took him to the nurse."

"Granger." Millie ground out, cracking her knuckles.

"Yep. Granger. Which puts her at a clear- if somewhat unfair- advantage." Tracey grinned at them. "Sad, really, since she has no chance with the boy..."

"Advantage?" Millie asked, confusion clear in her voice.

"She's talking about the fact that Madame Pomfrey will be more likely to give information to Granger than to other girls who just... crawl out of the woodwork." Daphne snapped.

"Indeed... Of course, the girl- or girls, as the case may be- who crawl out first may full well be able to convince the nurse that their social circle may overlap with Potter's on more than one instance..."

"That they're his girlfriend, Millie." Daphne forestalled the other girl's question.

"Exactly."

"So why are you pointing this out to us? I mean, Pansy and I can figure that much out by ourselves." Daphne asked her uneasily.

"Yes- but so can every other single, desperate girl in here."

A glance around the Great Hall showed a large percentage of the female- and gay- population was in fact gearing up for a quick getaway.

"... And you're bringing this to our attention because...?"

"Because I need a date for that fucking ball, and I'll be damned if I end up going with someone who doesn't fit at least ninety percent of my 'Perfect' criteria."

"... That seems a tad bit..." Daphne looks at Pansy uncertainly.

"Bat-shit-crazy-and-fucking-impossible." Pansy says simply.

"Maybe. But the point is- I need time to find a worthwhile date. And while Potter's on the market, all the other girls will be chasing 'Mister Impossible'. That gives me time to find the right guy."

"So you want me to..." Daphne asked, her eyes wide.

"I want you to play Potter."

"What?" Daphne yelped, and Millie loomed over her in a threatening manner.

"Oh, please. I'm not asking for broken hearts here. But if you promise me to stay out of the game for a month- _one month_- then I have a decent window to find my date. And in exchange, I can guarantee that you'll be the first people out of that door. Deal?"

Daphne shot an uncertain look at the two other girls, before nodding in agreement.

"Right, get into positions. I'll make sure the doors are blocked worse than that time Draco decided to drink the draught that Longbottom made..."

There was a collective wince from the Slytherin table, followed by a very red Draco reminding Tracey that they'd all vowed their silence on that particular tale.

Daphne smiled at the familiarity of her Housemates, before she turned to Millie. They both gave jerky nods and headed for the part of the table closest to the door, their housemates shifting with subtlety that would never grace the Gryffindor table, and stood at the ready.

A general scuffle alerted them to the Headmaster's departure- which also signaled the end of dinner.

Daphne shot for the doors like a hyppogriff on the tail of a scent, Millie close behind her and subtly strong-arming the other girls in the race.

_This is ridiculous- there's just no way that Tracey will be able to get us a lead in the race, never mind letting us win it!_

But just as Daphne gave up hope- the sight of Longbottom and his cronies shuffling people out of their way with Granger nicely nestled amongst them tended to do that to seasoned optimists, and Daphne was no optimist- she heard a collective gasp and then...

"Oi, Longbottom. Fitting name- seeing as how Gryffindors are the Slytherins' bitches... Take it up the ass like the girl you are!" Tracey bellowed, before promptly hitting him in the face with what Daphne knew to be a dildo.

_Wow. That girl has balls... or has she thrown them at him?_ The thought never got the chance to coalesce and take root because then Millie was there- the only barrier between the petite Daphne and being crushed by the angry, laughing, churning sea that the after dinner crowd had become.

And then they were free- a gasp of fresh air before a strong grip on her arm reminds her that this is still a race.

The pounding of her feet deafen her ears to external noises and she vaguely remembers that she hadn't continued her fitness regime in the post-Quidditch-ban slump which had claimed a great chunk of her normally spirited personality.

But it was back with a vengeance now.

Because no, it wasn't flying, but the wind (less ferocious) wind was still in her hair and there was still something at stake here and Tracey, as usual, had had her back. And she and Millie were there, sprinting down corridors and flushed faced and panting as though they hadn't had that fight.

It was something worth fighting for.

Suddenly the hospital wing's doors loomed in front of the two girls and Daphne closed her eyes, bracing for impact. But Millie hit them first and they opened with ease, she then put out an arm to stop Daphne, pulling her to a sudden halt.

"Good Merlin! What is this?" The school nurse asked as she came bustling through the door of her office with a tray of potions in tow.

"Madame Pomfrey! We're here to see Harry! Because apparently he collapsed and..." Daphne bit her lip, her green eyes going wide. Millie put a supportive arm around her shoulder. It was perhaps a bit tight, but that was beside the point.

"Ah, yes, Mister Potter! Now, poor dear, if I see one more girl looking quite so stricken by his bedside I might just have to say that he begins to bear some resemblance to his late father. Still- no need to worry Miss...?"

"Greengrass! And Bullstrode."

"Well then, you two can go and tell Miss Granger this as well, Mister Potter will be fine." The nurse smiled at the two as she opened the only pair of curtains that had been closed. Daphne and Millie both gasped as they finally saw the sallow face of their friend.

"Are you sure he'll be all right?" Millie asked suspiciously.

"Of course! My dear cousin Edward had it. Lovely boy really, despite his love of setting my hair on fire. I should probably write to him, he's a curse breaker in Afghanistan you know, perfectly healthy. Haven't had someone die from it in a millenia. And that was only because people were a bit superstitious back then..."

"But what's _wrong_ with him?" Daphne asked, holding his hand.

"Oh, yes, that. It's simply _magicus manifestus_- or magic manifesting."

The two girls gave her blank stares.

"Ah, well. Generally, witches and wizards have magical cores that grow with them, so they become larger and stronger as the people grow."

"That's why you learn certain spells at certain ages, isn't it?" Daphne asked.

"Indeed- Hogwarts follows the _Ravenclaw-Slytherin_ curriculum, where children learn spells according to a very broad spectrum of where their magical cores should be at the beginning and end of a school year, so the magical core is stretched as much as has been proven safe by clinical trials. It was all rather cutting edge- still is you know."

"That's why Hogwarts is so prestigious, then?" Millie asked.

"Indeed- it completely revolutionized the education system. Before Rowena Ravenclaw's research the idea of a school as large as Hogwarts simply did not seem feasible... But-"

"But what does this have to do with Harry?" Daphne asked impatiently.

"Oh, right. Well, there is a single percentage of all wizards and witches who experience a very rare phenomenon. This phenomenon occurs when the person in question's magical core expands rapidly enough to leave the rest of the person's body behind. Effectively causing the person tho have to _grow into_ their magical core."

"... So it's kind of like an epic magical growth spurt?" Millie asked.

"Well, I suppose you could put it that way." The nurse sniffed.

"So- he'll be okay?" Daphne ventured.

"Indeed. All he needs is some good, uninterrupted sleep to get him through the more painful stages of the manifestation along with some rather excellent nutritional potions... all in all he should be awake within the next week."

"And out of hospital?"

"That will depend on how quickly he can learn to control his new magic. After all- his magic will have increased at least a hundred fold."

"A hundred fold?" Daphne gaped.

"Well, yes. Mister Potter here will definitely be in the upper magical percentile of the world when he awakens. After all, if he could reach his magical potential by simply growing with this he wouldn't have to go through this. It is a sign of great magical prowess- Merlin himself is said to have endured the _Magicus Manifestus_."

"But your cousin Edward...?"

"A ground breaking curse breaker. His employers sing his praises like little birds."

"Oh."

"The point is that even so, Mister Potter shouldn't be here for more than a month. But now- he must sleep! So off with you two, go tell all of your friends. Shoo!"

And before they could properly protest the two girls found themselves staring at the closed doors of the hospital wing.

"So? Is he going to die?"

"Does he have consumption?"

"Wh-? WHAT THE HELL!" Daphne shouted as she turned to see Angelina and Katie standing against the corridor wall.

"You heard us: is he going to die? We're hoping it's of consumption, because that's what the female leads in operas like La Traviata and so forth die of. Oh- and don't even get me started on Mouli-"

"HAVE YOU NO DECENCY? MY FRIEND IS IN THERE! AT LEAST ACT LIKE IT BOTHERS YOU!"

"... Uhm. We just wanted to know- a tragically dying date is just _so_ romantic." Katie shrugged.

"And, you know, there isn't even the possibility of the two of you getting a happily ever after so you don't get your hopes up and then have them dashed." Angelina nodded.

"You make me sick! Get away! Get the fuck away from here!"

"Woah- chill girlfriend! We're here to get the scoop, yeah..."

"But we're also here to give you sage words of advice."

"What the fuck could you say that would ever be useful." Daphne spat.

Katie and Angelina shared a look.

"Look, girl, if you want the man..."

"... You gotta flirt like a slut."

"... Excuse me?" Daphne asked, completely flabbergasted.

"You heard us. Now we gotta go tell the girls that he isn't dying. Unfortunately. It had such potential as a tragic love tale..." Angelina said as she walked away.

Katie meanwhile grinned at Daphne and mouthed 'like a slut' at her before following her friend.

The two Slytherin girls simply stared after them, dumbstruck.

"Uhm, Mills...?"

"Yeah?"

"How do you flirt like a slut?"

HP-BaB-HP

**A/N:** -Ducks behind her desk- I know it's late! But the break up and then the fact that I managed to, in my muddled state, delete the eighteen chapters that I had written prior to this instead of the old C++ programs from last semester I had been trying to delete (I could only afford a measly 250GB HDD) and the horror that is organic chemistry and... yeah. It hasn't been a good time.

Still- thank you SO much for all of your support. Your reviews and your insights, your questions and your namecalling my ex, and all of those faves and 'update soon!'s mean the world to me. Please don't stop!

A special shout out to AFM- your review made me see the silver lining to my cloud. Thank you! :D


	9. In which Insomnia Reigns

**A/N:** Please note the gore warning. It's got a lot of blood and death. If you read it, then don't blame me- it's clearly marked so that you can skip it. :)

**Chapter 8**

The slowly spinning disks filled with strange symbols seemed to mock Miranda Vector.

She let out an irritable huff, and turned back to her equations. It seemed that no matter what she did, the wards of the castle seemed quite determined to thwart her efforts. Things might have been better if only she knew what the hell the spinning disks _were_.

But the only thing she knew for certain was that if she tried to force them to change, they would turn from glowing gold to an angry red, and she would get a fucking migraine.

Great, now she was swearing.

Her mother would be appalled. Give her a lecture on how unladylike it was, then start going on about how she should forget all of this career nonsense and start looking for a husband, buy a townhouse, have 2.5 children and stay home to raise them like any sensible lady.

A shudder ran through her, and she reminded herself to get an early start on thinking of excuses not to go home for Christmas.

A brainwave hit her- what if she applied differentiation on three dimensions on the disks? After all, they seemed perfectly planar, but there was a possibility that not all the dimensions of the spells they were woven from were visible...

Instantly she rubbed out her previous attempts and started differentiating what she thought to be the equations... Yes! Something was definitely happening... the disks were spinning at such a dizzying pace that the symbols became a solid gold blur...

And then they flashed an angry red, moments before she felt herself being bodily thrown form the room in the stone corridor that surrounded Hogwarts, where the wards were situated.

She hit the ground hard enough to knock her wind out, and wheezed in a desperate attempt to get her breath back.

The disks it seemed, were appeased by the fact that her ass would be as blue as Aurora Sinistra's eyes tomorrow, and did not inflict another migraine on her.

It was ridiculous! She was an expert arithmancer! She should not be bested night after fucking night by a horde of strange spinning disks! She would not stand for it!

Storming to the archway that led to the wards she was halted as she landed once more on her ass- her momentum having been broken by an invisible barrier which had sprung up.

That was the last straw.

"LET ME IN YOU STUPID FUCKING DISKS! I WILL DEFEAT YOU IF I HAVE TO FUCKING RIP ALL OF YOU FROM THE VERY FABRIC OF THIS CASTLE! I WILL DIG THE LOT OF YOU FUCKERS UP AND THROW YOU INTO THE DEEPEST DARKEST PIT I CAN THINK OF! I KNOW YOU LITTLE SHITS CAN HEAR ME! OPEN UP!"

"Really, Vector. People may begin to think what little brains you had have evaporated." A silky smooth voice came from behind her.

Miranda started, before turning a vicious scowl on him. "Shut your mouth you slimy, sewer breathed, dungeon dwelling dimwit! Why do you always seem to turn up when I don't want you to? Of course, it's because I never want anything to do with a Death eater!"

Had Miranda had any sleep in the past week, she would never have been able to come up with the right insults. She may also have seen Snape's expression shutter closed like a set of Muggle blinds.

Luckily any insult he would have thrown her way was stopped by the appearance of the Headmaster. For Severus Snape would have flayed her alive with his tongue. As it was, he merely sneered at her, and disappeared in a swirl of black robes.

The Headmaster watched him leave with a strange look on his face. Then he turned at Miranda, taking in her frazzled state, her frizzy hair and the sheer amount of chalk that covered her.

"Now, now my dear. There's no need for such a fuss. Come, I fear you have been overworking yourself. Let us get you up to bed."

"Albus! Have you forgotten that the other schools are arriving in a week?"

"I have not, Professor Vector. However, I must insist you go to bed this instant." The command in his voice was clear.

Miranda shot him a dirty look before she shouldered past him and headed for her rooms.

When she finally got there, she entered and immediately greeted by the huge stack of papers she still had to grade. She'd gotten too far behind, and Granger was starting to give her reproving looks. Well, fuck them. She had a lot on her plate right now! She wasn't some machine dammit!

The sound of her portrait opening shook her from her murderous thoughts.

Aurora Sinistra blinked at her. "Well hello there stranger. I thought that you would be spending yet another sleepless night with your beloved wards."

"SHUT UP! Shut the fuck up! I keep trying and trying and trying and trying and all I get is shit and contempt! And Snape! Don't even get me started on Snape! And Granger, with her looks! I hate my fucking life! They're all laughing at me!"

Aurora lifted a brow at her. "Feel better now?"

"Not really." Miranda sighed as she slumped bonelessly into her tub chair in front of the fireplace.

"That would be because you haven't slept in two weeks. Relax. I'll draw you a bath, and then you can go to bed."

"I can't do that!" Miranda protested.

"Look, Albus probably sent you to come get some sleep. The wards will still be there tomorrow, but you made a third year _cry._ That's Snape's job. Not yours. I doubt he'll be impressed you're stealing his thunder."

Miranda gave her a weak smile. Aurora gave her a smile of her own and headed for her friend's bathroom.

"You know," she started as she opened the tap, "Snape _does_ seem to cross paths with you a lot. I mean, you know, it's like he keeps tabs on you. And I believe his insults are rather more... creative when he's with you. Not that he isn't usually creative. That man loves his insults. But the point is... oh, I'm just going to say it. It kind of reminds me of when little boys pull your hair, you know? And Merlin knows that man is emotionally stunted enough that that _would_ be his preferred method of showing attraction.

In short- I think Snape likes you. A lot."

Silence greeted this statement.

"Miranda? Have you fainted? Mir- oh!"

Miranda Vector was fast asleep in her tub chair. Aurora smiled at the sight.

"Ah, this is a conversation that can wait."

She took the throw from the back of the couch and covered her friend with it. Then she let herself out quietly.

HP-BaB-HP

_Darkness. _

_All encompassing darknes enfolded him. _

_And then... a bone chilling laugh as happiness flooded him. _

_A flash of himself in the mirror- red eyes and snake like features. _

_Voldemort. _

Neville Longbottom sat up in his bed with a gasp.

Groaning, he fell back onto the mattress, and ran a hand over his face. A glance at the bedside clock informed his that it was currently 1:15 in the morning. Lovely.

His mind went back to the dream.

It was always like that. The dreams seemed to open a wound in his psyche, and he would morbidly keep poking it with a stick like the masochist he was.

Still. Voldemort being happy- that hardly bode well for anyone. Especially him. It was probably the prelude to another scheme to get him killed. Probably after long hours of torture. Snape would probably torture him. The greasy git would enjoy it.

Giving up on going back to sleep he opened his bed curtains. Stealthily fetching his broom from under his bed, he exited the dorm room and headed for the Quidditch pitch.

Even though he wasn't good enough to be on the Gryffindor team he still loved flying.

Malfoy had said in first year that if the giant squid could find a broom, it would look like Neville flying. But it didn't change the fact that nothing cleared the head like a good long flight.

As he kicked off, Neville continued brooding.

Sometimes he felt like this whole thing was never going to end. Whenever the next brush with death came along he found feared that all of his nightmares would come true. And he'd be paralyzed with fear. So he did the only thing he could- he shut off his brain and plunged head long into the whole bloody mess.

And then people would just clap him on the back and send him off for the holidays.

His fans would swarm him, and stare at him in awe. His Grandmother would throw fancy dinners and invite all and sundry to them to show off her brilliant grandson. The boy who defeated Voldemort.

The worst part, if Neville was honest, would be the fact that it generally _wasn't_ him who really saved the day. No. That Potter shit would always appear just when they all thought that the day was lost and then _he'd_ save the day.

Then he disappeared like mist on a sunny day.

Neville wasn't as stupid as he pretended to be. He knew he'd be dead at least four times if Potter hadn't shown up. The worst part was that he'd told Neville, in no uncertain terms in his harsh gravelly voice, that he only did it because Neville's dick-brained ideas were going to get Hermione killed.

It terrified him that if Potter wanted he could destroy everything Neville stood for.

If the truth came out... well. He doubted his Grandmother would still be so proud of him. He'd become a scandal. A huge turd on his family tree. Though he tried and tried and tried so damn hard! He'd never really been a foolhardy Gryffindor. The sorting hat had mentioned Hufflepuff.

Imagine the Boy-Who-Lived in Hufflepuff!

So he'd begged the sorting hat to put him in Gryffindor. Where everyone expected him to go.

And so the lies had started. He bullied Slytherins because that's what good Gryffindors did to slimy Slytherins. And he took out his frustrations on Potter because, dammit, _he_ was the hero. He was supposed to save the day and have lady luck on his side. Girls were supposed to flock to him.

Potter simply gave him disdainful looks each time he tried. The only way to get him riled up was to mess with his harem.

And wasn't that just wrong? A Slytherin boy with no fame and hardly a knut to his name, who walked around in clothes that were obviously second hand, had a fucking harem.

He took a turn too quickly to prevent smashing into a stand that he hadn't seen in his musings and ended up falling arse over kettle onto the pitch. Luckily he had long ago learned to fly close to the ground.

Slow clapping drew his attention a few feet to his left.

"My, my Mister Longbottom. I had thought it impossible for you to become any less graceful, and yet you surprise me. Add to that your singular lack of intellect, grattitude and survival instincts and I find it a miracle that you are still alive."

Neville flushed angrily. "Look Snape...!"

"Ten points for disrespecting a teacher." The voice was smooth.

"Ten points!"

"Twenty for being out after curfew. Shall we add another thirty for backchatting?"

"No."

"Thirty for disrespect."

"No. Sir."

"Shame. I would have dearly loved to make a bigger dent in Gryffindor's point total."

With that the man turned his back on the outraged boy.

"Oh, and Mister Longbottom?"

"Yes _sir_."

"Forty points for your horrific flying abilities."

HP-BaB-HP

**BEWARE- HERE BE GORE**

_Blood. _

_His skin was covered in blood. The boy in front of him had a stocky build and was wielding his knife with a maniacal grin. _

_**No. Not this. Anything but this.**_

"_Well, well. The little brat has come out to play." The older boy mocked his ten year old self. The knife glinted evilly in the light and younfer Harry's breath is coming in harsh pants. He has no knife with which to defend himself, because he was supposed to be safe here. _

"_No one leaves the Gryffiths and lives to tell the tale." _

_Young Harry shoots him a baleful glare. _

_**No. Wake up damn it!**_

"_Please, like I'd stay with a bunch of losers like you."_

_The other boy's nostrils flare, but young Harry doesn't care. If he's going to die he's going to die after having his say. _

"_I'm surprised you managed to find me. I doubt you could find your own dick." _

"_You little...!" The other boy lunges at him again. This time he manages to overpower the faster boy and straddles him, his knife pressed hard enough into the other boy's throat to draw more blood. _

"_You always had a smart mouth. Let's see if I can cure you of it, shall we?" _

_A light begins to glow in Harry's throat, and the other boy grins in sick anticipation. "There it is- your little voice." _

_Young Harry begins to struggle in earnest now, but the other boy is simply too heavy. _

_Then the knife plunges into the light and he's screaming. _

_The weight of the other boy disappears suddenly and he hears a voice growl. _

_**No! No, no, no, no, no, no, please no!**_

_Harry's eyes are drawn toward his saviour. A boy of about sixteen years, with a distinctive scarring on his nose. His blonde hair is shaggy and his blue eyes are hard with rage. Harry coughs and tries to call out to the other boy- because he knows that the rest of the gang's enforcers must be nearby. _

_**No, damn it! I don't want to see this!**_

_The stocky boy is unconscious, having been thrown into a nearby wall by the enraged werewolf. _

_And he knows what's coming next... _

_A gurgle from young Harry, and his saviour turns towards him, scrambling to get to him, kneeling next to him and pressing on his throat to try and stem the flow of blood. _

_**No! Turn around Marcus, please turn around!**_

"_Oh Merlin, Harry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Hang on pup, hang on. I'll get you to Maria. She'll patch you up. Shit! I should have pro-" _

_And then there's an arrow lodged in Marcus' throat. _

_The blood spatters onto Harry and he sees the surprise in the other boy's eyes as he falls onto Harry, a terrible gurgling accompanying his last few breaths. _

_Harry looks over Marcus' shoulder to see five more enforcers, one of them with a longbow in his hands and a smirk on his face. _

_Harry tries to shake Marcus awake, but his eyes are glazed and the heat is escaping his body. _

_With strength he didn't think he possessed he pushes Marcus off of him, getting to his feet and turning his green-eyed glare at the boys. They look so smug and self confident- as if the life they had just stolen meant nothing. _

_And then he's summoned the unconscious enforcer's knife to his hand, and he feels the rage building inside of him. His magic cause little whirlwinds to spring up all around and there's fear in their eyes. _

_They scream terribly when he paints the walls of the abandoned paint factory red with their blood. _

_Blood owed him for taking away the only true family he ever had. _

_And then it's all gone, only emptiness remaining. _

"_There, there now. Wake, Heir of the Lotus Tree. Wake." _

_**GORE GONE. **_

_**YOU CAN OPEN YOUR EYES NOW. **_

And then he's awake and aware of the fact that he feels... lighter somehow. Despite the fact that it still hurt to think of that day.

He'd perched on top of a train, with Marcus' limp and cold body in his arms, taken him out to the country they'd planned on visiting together and buried him under a tree.

He went there every year.

Thanking the older boy for all he'd done for him. Marcus had gotten them both out of the gang, and promised him that he was meant for better things. If it hadn't been for Marcus he would never have attended Hogwarts and been dealing drugs.

"Good morning Mister Potter." Madame Pomfrey smiles at him as she puts a breakfast tray on the night stand next to his bed. "Now, let's see whether your magic has settled, shall we?"

She makes a couple of complicated wand motions above him, hmm'ing as she reads the results before she smiles at him again.

"Indeed it has Mister Potter! So you're clear to go back to classes. Now eat your breakfast. Wouldn't want to be late for your first day back.

Harry returns her smile, though he still feels an odd emptiness in himself. He wolfed down his breakfast and got out of bed- carefully making it- and changes into his school robes at a speed that seems to startle Madame Pomfrey.

"Well, you are an eager one. Right- remember what I said about controlling your magic. Especially in class!" The last part was shouted as he was already running towards the Slytherin common room. He still had to get his bag, since Madame Pomfrey had not allowed him to even think about school work in his two week hospital stay.

At least she had informed all of his teachers.

Still, his heart was pounding as he entered the common room and ran into Daphne.

"Wha-? Harry!" She smiled up at him as he gripped her arms to prevent the two of them from ending up on the floor.

Harry smiled back down at her. It was good to be greeted with a smile- and he had missed their usual routine. Hospital visits just never seemed as good.

"You look much better. Are you alright?" Still she was smiling at him, and his hands were still on her arms. Was he supposed to move them? It was nice to touch her, she had such soft skin, a stark contrast to his own callused fingers.

They were still staring at each other. Neither of them moving. Daphne's smile making him feel like he was finally seeing the sun after a long winter.

And then her eyes were fluttering and her face was moving towards his, or was he the one who was moving? He wasn't quite sure why but his body seemed to have a mind of its own, and it wasnted something to happen...

"GRYFFINDOR'S ARE OUR BITCHES!"

The two of them jumped apart, Harry's hands finally leaving Daphne's arms as he immediately went into a defensive stance.

"Oh, why, hello there. Sorry- I didn't see you there." Tracey smiled sweetly at the two of them. Daphne was glaring at her and holding her hand over her heart.

"Hey, Daphne, I need your help. Walk with me?"

"Yes, yes. Alright." Daphne snuck another glance at an obviously confused Harry and then darted out of the common room.

Tracey followed at a more sedate pace, waving her hand at Harry in farewell.

Well... that was weird.

Still, it was off to class he supposed. The mysteries of the female mind would have to wait.

HP-BaB-HP

The day had been a particularly hectic one.

After the entire incident with Daphne he'd been late for his first class- arithmancy. And Professor Vector had been a bit more absent minded than usual. She had bade them all to read a chapter in their text books and promptly sat down and started scribbling some horrifically complicated equations.

The rest of the day had been filled trying to play catch up to his peers after a two week absence.

And now he was dying for a smoke, but couldn't dare to smoke in any of his usual haunts. He'd been warned early on by Pansy that the teachers were being anal about their behaviour in the week leading up to the arrival of the other two schools.

Which sucked.

Breathing out harshly, he touched the wall in the hallway to the common room.

_Please. I need somewhere to smoke._ He pleaded with the castle. The castle sent back a disapproving feeling.

_Please? I'll go stark raving mad with cravings. And that would be terrible._

Another moment of disapproval, and then an image of an archway and a stone chamber beyond it.

_Thank you._ He smiled at the castle- it seemed that the old building could never deny him a request. He didn't know whether she did it for all her inhabitants, but she had been his first friend when he had been intent on remaining invisible to the rest of the students. She'd shown him all of her secrets, and it seemed she was more than willing to continue doing so.

With one last thought of fondness he set off to the place she had shown him.

It took a little searching- the archway was cleverly hidden- but he finally found it. When he stepped inside he felt the cool tingle of magical wards. That threw him- was someone watching this place?

But no. Hogwarts would never try and get him caught.

Taking another step inside he found his breath catching in his throat. The place was huge. He couldn't see the end of the stone corridor as it curved on both sides.

And then there were the spinning disks suspended in mid air.

They glowed a warm yellow colour, spinning about their axes. Another step into the corridor and suddenly the disks were moving and glaring so brightly that Harry had to shield his eyes with his hands.

When the light diminished enough for him to see his breath caught in his throat.

Where there had once been multiple disks spinning on their own there was now a single large sphere of white- made up of all the disks spinning around a single axis. And there- projected above it all was a luminous tree.

A tree which had lotus blossoms on it.

Awestruck Harry moved towards it and extended his hand to touch the tree, just as he heard voices coming. Damn! He immediately headed further into the corridor, following its sloping curve until he came upon a doorway.

The corridor beyond it sloped upward and he followed it.

When he exited the next door, he was in Hogsmead. Well, that was another way to sneak out he supposed.

So busy was he with wondering about the spinning disks and the lotus bearing tree- because honestly, _a tree?_- that he didn't notice the stunning spell until it hit him in the back.

HP-BaB-HP

**A/N:** - Poor Harry. He seems to spend a lot of time unconcious. And oblivious. I love clueless! Harry. And poor Vector- I think she's cracking under all the stress. So she took it out on poor Severus. Pretty serious chapter this. Ah well.

Some notes on this chapter:

I don't mean anything by Vector's mother. I think she just wants her daughter to be happy. And as I will explain later in my version of Wizarding culture, women aren't really that career driven. I just see it that way because they're still stuck in a very archaic time frame.

As to Harry's memory/dream of killing the enforcers... Well. Now you know a reason why his dreams are always filled with blood. And why the gangs never bother him anymore. Why wasn't he arrested? The answer will come later.

Also, I gave Neville a spot because I think that too often we stuff people (or characters) into little cubby holes and keep them there. Neville will get a bigger role in the future, so it's important to know where he's coming from.

And lastly: the dreams of Harry's past are at an end! Now we'll get to know more about who the strange woman in his dreams is, and why he constantly dreams of a rural place.

Next chapter: major Harry whump! Voldemort makes an appearance and Vector swallows her pride. Stay tuned.


	10. In which a lot is swallowed

**A/N:** Torture scene to open the chapter- so there be gore. Again, if this squicks then skip it. I have put a little summary later on in the chapter for you. :D

**Chapter 9**

**HERE BE GORE**

Harry Potter woke with a scream.

He gasped in pain- a pain that seemed to be coming from his left shoulder. It took him a few moments to realize that someone was grinding their boot into the already overcharged tattoo there... the minor shielding charm that he had worked into the design already giving of little sparks of excess magic.

Any more pressure and it would burst...

"Ah, Mister Potter, I believe. So nice of you to join us."

Green eyes widened in shock, because, really, only _one_ person had a sibilant hissing voice like that. Voldemort. And he knew his name.

Fuck.

He'd figured that he'd pretty much stayed under the radar so far, but apparently he'd failed. Now he was in the clutches of a madman with no back-up, no plan and generally no clue as to what was going on. Not that he couldn't do spur of the moment.

He just preferred to be prepared.

"Mister Potter, I must admit. I am surprised. You see, until the Ministry incident I was completely unaware of your existence."

Harry just got onto his knees, glaring at the snake-like man. When he tried to get to his feet however, he was quickly and brutally jabbed in the kidneys by one of the mindless lackeys surrounding them. A sound like a sausage bursting filled the room as the skin on which his tattoo was burst open like a watermelon under a bat.

This got a sibilant laugh from Voldemort.

"No need to get up for me, Mister Potter."

Harry's glare never faltered. Though he didn't try to get up, he did try to use his magic, hell he'd take a cloud of smoke to cover himself running away right now. But something seemed to be holding him back, like there were ropes tied around his magic.

"Don't even try to use your magic, Mister Potter. I have sealed it away."

Shock flooded Harry at that declaration- sealing away someone's magic? That was impossible!

"Hm. Do you now realize the hopelessness of your situation? Do you fear me?"

The glare that Harry sent the snake-like man answered this question.

"Allow me to... Remind you who I am."

The feeling of a thousand daggers piercing his skin hit him so suddenly that he actually gave a short yell. The moment he realized this, however, he bit his lip in an effort to keep from screaming.

Even when the spell was released he could feel his muscles continue to spasm, each one hurting like fuck. Suddenly he thought he understood some of Longbottom's idiocy- he had after all gone through this quite a few times. He was sure it had to cause brain damage.

"Pity. I want to offer you, Harry, the opportunity of a life time." The lipless mouth curled into a smile. "I want to offer you riches and recognition and reward. I want to give you a place of honour amongst my followers."

The dark lord stood from his black throne then- and this drew Harry's attention to the place he was being held in. It looked rather like a cathedral with its buttressed ceilings and high windows. But it was all black, from the shards of cast iron windows that seemed to depict the unforgivables, to the shiny black marble floor.

The dark lord's black robes swirled over the shiny floor as he continued on his walk.

"You have such potential, Harry. But Dumbledore will not see it- will never acknowledge it- he's far too fixated on the-Boy-Who-Lived. But I- I see your potential and give you the opportunity to shine. Would you like to shine Harry?"

Still the stony expression on Harry's face did not change.

"Bellatrix." Voldemort deadpanned.

There was a demented cackle from his left and then he felt the excruciating pain of the cruciatus again. His already abused lip was starting to bleed by this stage. When the entire nail was finally removed, Bellatrix snickered at him.

"Well, Harry? Will you answer me now?"

The silence was deafening.

"Bella, my dearest, teach him a lesson in respect."

Harry had no chance to prepare for the next attack. The thousand knives had him on the butcher's block again, and he could probably put an entire unicorn horn through the hole now in his lip. He wasn't aware of how long the spell was kept on him, only that when it was released his body continued twitching just as violently as it did under the spell, and he was lying in a pool of his own sweat staring at the shiny black floor.

"Now, Harry Potter. What say you? Will you swear your loyalty to me?"

"Fuck you." Harry rasped at him.

There was shocked silence all around.

Then Voldemort let loose an almighty bellow.

"String him up! Use him as target practice!"

Strong arms pulled him up and dragged him across the floor, before chaining him in crucified pose to the one wall.

The sound of a bow being strung caused Harry's muscles to involuntarily contract even more. Suddenly there was an arrow protruding from his left shoulder. _How did that get there? I sure as hell didn't put it there._ He thought befuddledly.

Another twang of an arrow released and his right leg had a matching accessory.

There seemed to be a lot of blood running from his leg, as opposed to his shoulder. He vaguely thought that it had probably hit an artery. Oh, and of course the rest of his tattoos had burst open- though at the moment he was in so much pain that it was hard to tell where it emanated from.

He was dripping blood all over the floor.

Which was a shame, because it was really a very pretty shiny floor.

A pale hand lifted his chin. "Well, Harry Potter? Do you yield?"

"Not if looking like you comes with the package."

Voldemort hissed as he pulled back, but before he could sic his loyal Death Eaters on Harry a masked Death Eater stepped inside the room.

"Master, I believe I have an appropriate means of ensuring his co-operation." The high, reedy voice simpered.

"Do you now? Show me."

The Death Eater handed a photo to Voldemort, who's mouth once more curled into an evil smile.

"Tell me Harry Potter, how much do you love little Adrienne?"

Harry felt his eyes widen involuntarily, and his hopes sink as Voldemort showed him a picture of the girl and Nanna coming back from their shopping trip. The Bakery looked like it always did- small and open and badly protected.

"Tsk. Living so far away from Hogwarts... in Thor's End. They have no proper protection, do they? Little Adrienne will never even see the inside of Hogwarts, too little magic. It would be a shame if she never saw the inside of Merlin Academy."

Harry swallowed convulsively.

"This is your last chance, Mister Potter. After this I will raze their little bakery to the ground."

Letting his head fall to his chest Harry whispered a "fine." just loudly enough for Voldemort to hear. He let out a scream as Voldemort took hold of the arrow embedded in his shoulder and twisted it.

"The correct answer is 'Yes my Lord'."

"Yes."

Another twist.

"Yes my Lord." Harry ground out.

**GORE BE GONE**

"See- that's not so bad." Voldemort smiled at him. "And now I shall let you in on a little secret, Harry. My plans concerning Mister Longbottom."

Spitting some blood from his mouth Harry cast a baleful look at Voldemort.

"You see, he has been a thorn in my side for far too long. I need to get rid of him. And who better to get rid of him than someone he obviously trusts? That would be you, by the way."

Harry gave him an incredulous glance.

"Come now, don't be so modest. I know you helped him all these years. So you see, the Tri-Wizard Tournament is the perfect time to kill the little brat."

Voldemort sat back on his throne.

"I shall have my trusted spy enter both your names into the goblet of fire, and you will have three tasks in which to kill him. Which should hardly be all that hard. After all- champions have died before."

Harry merely continued inspecting the floor. It really was a nice floor.

"And should you fail... well." At this Harry finally looked up, just in time to see the photo go up in flames, the ashes falling to the darkly betwitching floor. "I think the consequences are rather clear."

HP-BaB-HP

Severus Snape was in a foul mood.

Actually, that statement was akin to someone remarking that a typhoon was 'a bit of dampness'. In fact some would say that he was always in a foul mood, no surprise. So let it be said that Severus Snape was in a particularly foul mood.

He had made no less than ten students cry, a new record even for him. So when Daphne Greengrass intercepted him in the hallways to inform him that Harry Potter was missing he gave it very little thought. The boy was always on a mission of his own. It was not uncommon for him to disappear into the bowels of the castle.

He'd informed her of this, and given her a detention for wasting his time.

The look of complete betrayal on her face had convinced him to forgo dinner in the great hall. Actually, he'd forgone any form of dinner and headed straight for his reserve of whisky.

He was just working himself into a state of complete drunken brooding when there was a timid knock on his door.

"Go away." He snarled at the closed door.

"Snape, don't be like that." The voice of Miranda Vector startled him.

"Go away. There are only bitter old Death Eaters here."

"Snape, look, I don't really want to apologize to a portrait..."

"Then do not apologize."

A sigh, followed by, "Snape. I didn't mean what I said last night. I hadn't slept in two weeks and the wards were... being difficult."

Snape decided that stony silence would be his best answer.

"Look, I know that it was hurtful. But I didn't actually _mean_ it... I'm sorry."

"Feel better?"

"No. I feel terrible. But if you'd just let me apologize to your face..."

"No."

"Oh, come on. We've said worse things to each other... or at least you've said worse things to me. And I've gotten in a few insults too. But we've never actually gotten this mad at each other. What makes this time different?"

That caused Snape a bit of confusion. Because she was right, he taunted and teased her into a huff and she'd come back a few days later having finally thought up her own barbs.

What _had_ made this time different?

Something deep inside himself wanted to make itself known then, but he couldn't quite grasp it through the alcoholic haze that was beginning to cloud his judgement.

Enough whisky, obviously. Spies could scarcely afford to be drunk.

"Snape?"

"Yes."

"I brought you that really expensive dark chocolate you like..." She sounded almost like a kicked puppy, wagging its tail in apology for eating its owner's slippers.

Blast.

He wasn't going to forgive her. He refused to fall for it!

Unfortunately, no one seemed to have informed his body of this fact, and so it was that he had opened his door to her before he realized it. She gave him a sheepish smile as she handed him the chocolate.

And damn if it _wasn't_ his favourite. The dark kind with chilli infused into it.

How had she known?

She was shifting her feet in a nervous manner, still holding the chocolate out to him. She looked dreadful, in the flickering light of the torches. Her short curls were a mess, there was ink and chalk all over her and there were bags under her eyes. Not to mention the weight she had lost.

Severus cleared his throat and took the chocolate.

"Yes. Well. This is indeed the correct type of chocolate."

"You can't say it, can you?" She smiled at him.

"Say what, woman?"

"Thank you."

"Of course I _can_ say it. I merely see no reason to."

"Nope. You can't. I'm pretty sure you'd spontaneously combust if you ever said it."

"Enough of your prattling woman!" He made to close the door but she grabbed it before he could. Snape sputtered in outrage.

"No- wait! I was wondering whether I could come in?"

"Come... in?"

"Yes. You know, it's not nice to drink alone."

Severus Snape suddenly found himself panicking. Let her into his rooms? What would she think? He barely had enough furniture to fill the large quarters- hell, the bookcase had been a gift from Albus! The walls were bare, the furniture mismatched and the place a general mess.

"No." There, that wasn't so hard.

Miranda frowned at him. "Look, I know you're not terribly sociable but..."

"I said 'no', woman. Stop pestering me!"

"Why you... you... you dimwitted dungeon dwelling... dimwit!"

"I believe you used the word 'dimwit' twice, you numerical nitwit." He sneered at her.

"You! And! I apologized! You are an impossible man!"

"And you are a witless woman. Now leave me in peace!"

"FINE! But I'm taking my chocolate back!"

"FINE! Take it!"

"I will!"

"Then take it!"

"Well give it!"

"Here!"

"Goodbye!"

"Just leave already!"

Miranda stuck her tongue out at him and stormed off down the corridor. Severus slammed the portrait closed. Infuriating woman! Damn it all to hell, he was going to get thoroughly pissed tonight.

He was interrupted once again by frantic knocking.

"GO AWAY WOMAN!"

"Please Severus- it's Harry!" The hysterical voice of his godson pierced his rage.

"Blast!" He was at the portrait so quickly he was uncertain when he'd actually moved. He stepped back as the door opened to reveal a dishevelled Draco who was supporting a bleeding Harry Potter.

"Potter! What did you do this time?" He snarled at the boy, not really expecting a reply as he helped the boy onto his pink couch (an inheritance from his mother).

"Told... Ah!... Told Voldemort to go fuck himself." The boy bit out.

Severus and Draco both startled at the gravelly voice. Harry hardly ever spoke.

"The Dark Lord? When?"

"Ugh, earlier this evening. Took me a while to get back to Hogwarts..." Here he gestured vaguely at the arrow protruding from his leg.

"Draco, I will need dittany, a pain relieving potion, a blood replenishing potion, an anti-infection potion, the lime green potion in the bathroom cabinet, water and bandages."

"Yes. Of course." His paler than usual godson said and headed for the bathroom.

"You weren't there." Harry said, face tight with pain as Severus began inspecting the arrow in his leg. It had definitely bled a lot, but not hit an artery.

"No, Harry, I was not."

"That's bad."

"The Dark Lord knows that if I attend too many revels it will draw suspicion to me. He does not always call on me. Here, bite on this while I pull out the arrow."

Harry obediently bit down on the leather glove Severus had handed him.

Draco returned with the requested items and Severus lay them all out in the correct order.

"Draco- hold him down." Grimly Draco did as he was instructed. Severus then yanked the arrow out. To Harry's credit he took the pain with a harsh intake of breath and a few teeth marks on the glove.

Severus immediately set to work knitting the wound closed. While he did so he asked his godson how he'd found Harry. The pale boy flushed.

"We, uh, we werelookingforaplacetosmoke."

"Draco! You know what I think of smoking."

"Yes, well. Be that as it may... we were heading for the forbidden forest..."

"The forbidden forest! Of all the irresponsible...!"

"And there he was, passed out near the gates."

"Indeed. I have done all that I can for this wound for now, it will take several more sessions to heal completely. Now, for your shoulder..."

It was several hours later that Severus had finally managed to stem all of the bleeding. The burst tattoos would scar, as would the places that the arrows had been. His muscles would continue to twitch for a few hours, but the lime green potion was a special one he made to combat the after effects of the cruciatus. All in all the boy would live. Severus sent Draco to bed , before giving Harry another blood replenishing potion and collapsing into the tub chair opposite the boy.

"This is bad." Harry said.

"You'll live."

"No, I mean... has Voldemort asked you to put my name in the Goblet of Fire?"

Severus startled at this. Then a calculating gleam entered his eyes. "No."

"Then it's bad." The boy stated as he burrowed himself further into the couch, wincing a bit as he jostled his wounds.

Severus summoned the comforter from his bed and proceeded to lay it over the boy.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Ever."

"Of course. You have a reputation to uphold."

"Indeed."

"I'm going to have to tell you everything, aren't I?" Harry sighed.

"That would be for the best."

"What can I say? He kidnapped me, tortured me, and then told me that he expected Longbottom to be killed in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. By me."

"You said he wanted your name in the Goblet?"

"Yeah- said his trusted spy would put it in there."

Severus paled and the boy shot him a haunted look.

"See why this is bad?'

"You mean..."

"There's another spy in the school."

HP-BaB-HP

Gabrielle Delacour smiled at her sister as she sat on the edge of her bed. Fleur was busy packing, humming to herself as she decided which outfits would be the best for her upcoming trip.

"Mom said to remind you to pack warm things. It gets cold in England."

Fleur smiled at her, before she playfully ruffled her hair. "Yes, yes. You little worry wart!"

"... You're right. I am worried." Gabriella said, looking at the floor.

"About what, little sis?"

"You! People have died in the Tournament!"

"Oh, Gabby..." Fleur said as she pulled her little sister into a hug. "You don't need to worry. Those people weren't half as good as I am."

"Really?"

"Of course! I am after all taking all AP classes this year. That makes me the smartest person ever in this school." She smiled at her little sister.

"You _are_ really smart..."

"And I'm the fencing champion."

"That too."

"See? I'll be fine. Unless I do something incredibly stupid. Which I won't."

"Yeah, I guess."

Fleur smiled at the concern her little sister felt. That was her Gabriella- always worrying about them. She gave her a light kiss on the forehead.

"Right- now on to the _really_ important stuff! Should I take the purple and silver dress or should I go for the red and cream one?"

Gabriella giggled. "I don't know! You look really pretty in them both."

Fleur gasped. "Well then I obviously can't take either of them! I refuse to look simply 'pretty'! It has to be gorgeous or nothing!"

"You know what I mean! Silly!"

"Oh, I'm silly am I? Let's see who's really silly!" Fleur said as she summoned one of the pillows from her king size bed and proceeded to hit Gabriella with it.

With a shriek the youngest Delacour scrambled to get the other pillow and hit her sister back.

When they finally collapsed giggling on the bed, Gabriella seemed to have forgotten all her previous concerns.

HP-BaB-HP

When Harry stumbled into the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning after the night spent in Snape's quarters he was still limping, despite his best efforts.

Li immediately noticed of course.

She elbowed her friend Cho in the ribs.

"Ow!" Cho shot her a reproving glance, but Li merely jerked her head in Harry's direction.

"Oh... Oh dear Merlin! No wonder he never shows any interest in girls!"

"Yup. It's the truth. Harry Potter is gay."

HP-BaB-HP

**A/N:** - Woah! Another update? So soon? Thank Dead Teen Walking, Weresquirrel 01 and N Flamel. They are my muses and seeing the first two in person again has gotten me into a writing binge. :D Thanks guys!

Also: each and every review/fav/alert has me doing more happy dances. I mean- when did we cross the 100 mark? So what I figured was this: we're close enough to 150 reviews that I will write a one shot for whoever manages the 150th review. Is this bribery? Maybe- I live in Africa, so it's possible. ;P

Chapter notes: I loved writing this chapter. Ever since the first version of this story, I have had the first scene in my mind. Getting to finally write it was fun- hopefully Harry's first words weren't anticlimactic? Was the torture a little over the top or under the bottom? How is Harry going to get out of this one?

The scene between Severus and Vector was a completely different kind of fun to write. I'm enjoying it so much I might have to let them actually get together. It won't change the outcome of the story, but I might get them together.

Also: I told you guys the smoking was a plot device. I needed something that an actual street kid and some rebellious pure bloods could do. There will be more on why the pure bloods tend to smoke in... A few chapters. There is an actual, cultural reason. And although it's not technically bare bones necessary to the tale, it is one of the few parts of my Wizarding culture that has stuck around since the first drafts.

Aw, Fleur and Gabrielle! A nice fluffy scene which reminded me of my childhood. Of course, now you know I've got something evil in store for them further on into the story. -evil laugh-

As to the last paragraph... it just sort of popped itself in there. Cho and Li were adamant that it stay, however, and it has given rise to a few interesting developments. So I let it stay. It's gonna be fun. :D

Next chapter: Why were Harry's parents killed? Why was Neville the boy who lived? Why is Harry suddenly getting so much attention from Ron Weasley? How will Hermione react? Stay tuned to find out!


	11. Rumours, Forgiveness and Trees

**Chapter 10**

Viktor Krum took a deep breath of fresh air.

It would be his last breath, since they would soon be submerged to start their journey to this Hogwarts place. Though there were spells to keep the air purified it wouldn't be _fresh_. It would become rather stale, in fact, by the time they could finally remove the bubble charm from the ship.

And they'd have to crew the ship themselves.

Viktor had taken trips on the ship before, and he had enjoyed them. Not as much as he enjoyed flying- mostly because he really wasn't any good when it came to climbing the rigging.

His parents had said goodbye to him the previous day, along with all the other potential champions' parents. Headmaster Karkaroff had offered to let them stay longer, but Viktor had vehemently opposed such a thing. He hated the fact that the man doted on him for his fame and gave him priviliges none of the others had.

He hadn't really had any type of ego problems since he'd joined the National Quidditch Team- thanks to his parents and their strict parenting style.

Karkaroff's favouritism made him feel uncomfortable.

"_Hey- Viktor. Help me get these barrels secured in the cargo hold."_ One of the other boys called to him.

"_Alright. I'm coming."_ Viktor waved at him.

"_Ah, now, there's no need Viktor..."_ Karkaroff simpered at him. Viktor merely gave him a respectful nod.

"_It's no trouble sir."_ And then he was off to the other boy's side.

"_That man fawns over you like you're a newly born krupp puppy!"_ The boy- Andrei- said in disgust.

"_A lot of people fawn over me, Andrei. It's just one of those things."_ Krum shrugged.

"_Bet you're glad Durmstrang's a boys' school."_ Andrei laughed and Viktor favoured him with a wry smile.

"_Oh, look. The 'Superstar' has decided to lower himself to our level and _work_. Suppose we should enjoy it while we can."_ Another boy said snidely as they entered the cargo hold.

It was something which always took Viktor by surprise. These people who thought that just because he was on the National Quidditch team, he never worked. He trained night and day, through heatwaves and the harshest of winter storms, to get to where he was.

And then he still needed to study.

The team's coach had not been pleased when Viktor had informed him of where he would be spending his school year, and Viktor had a very strict schedule and diet to follow. Not to mention that he had to spend at least two weekends in a month training with the rest of the team.

And yet, the sniping comments and hero worship never ended.

That was why he was so lucky to have Andrei- he wasn't inclined to either. Which could be because he himself had a very successful rock band that was taking Bulgaria by storm. The Drunken House-Elves had had a roaringly successful first tour this summer, and so they had found kindred spirits in each other.

"_Shut up, Aleksandrei."_ Andrei said blithely. _"We have already proven that we cab work hard for our dreams. I doubt you even have any dreams."_

"_Why you little...!" _Viktor blithely stepped in between the furious Aleksandrei and his much skinnier friend. Viktor was by no means as large as Aleksandrei, but his body was honed from hours of special training and he could easily break a man's nose with his compact muscles.

"_Whatever, you're not worth the energy- I mean you got in on _spell casting._ That's so gay." _Aleksandrei scoffed.

"_Oh yes. Fabulous insult that. You should let me show you my spellmanship someday soon."_ Andrei answered serenely.

"_One day you two won't have anyone to hide behind. And then I'll get you."_

"_I'll get you my pretty- and your little dog too!"_ This statement was finished with a cackle from Andrei.

Viktor and most of the other boys gave him strange looks- except one who was sniggering behind his hand.

"_... Muggle movie reference."_ Andrei shrugged.

Viktor just shook his head.

At least it would be an interesting year.

HP-BaB-HP

Harry was having a bad day.

Not only was he in a lot of pain, and still having involuntary muscle spasms, but for some reason girls kept on whispering whenever he passed them in the hallways.

What the hell?

He wasn't in the mood for this shit. He'd been tortured last night and now it seemed that he was the subject of some kind of ridiculous rumour.

Not to mention the fact that several boys he was pretty sure he'd never met had struck up coversations with him. They kept asking if he had a date for the yule ball.

What. The. Fuck.

It was all rather disturbing, and by the time he finally entered the hallowed sanctuary of the library he was ready to blow a gasket.

"Hey Harry." Hermione greeted him with her usual smile. Harry merely grunted non-comitally. She gave him a quizzical look but he merely waved it away and started unpacking his books. They'd be doing their arithmancy project again.

"Okay- so you know how we're doing our project on the number seven right? Well, I figured we'd draw sevens on different materials and then record whether it had any effect on their strengths, magical properties and appearance. What do you think?"

_I think that I'd rather go twenty rounds with a hyppogriff than_ _than have the conversation we need to have._ Harry though to himself.

It would be so easy to hide all of this from her- so easy to just lose himself in this world of numbers and just _not tell_ her.

But she deserved better than that.

She would never forgive him if she found out- but more than that, the distress of having it dumped on her in front of the whole school, of seeing Longbottom in danger, with no clue as to what was going on would distress her.

And she would be a useful messenger to Longbottom.

Damn it.

"Hermione." His voice rasped hideously, his vocal chords straining and causing him pain.

"H-Harry?" She stuttered, caught completely off guard.

"We need to talk."

"... Oh Merlin."

Harry frowned. "You say that like you know what I'm about to say."

"Oh, Harry. I... I can't say I'm not disappointed that you didn't tell me. But I am here for you. I will support you no matter what your preferences are."

Wait- what? Harry did a triple and Hermione must have seen his confusion because she hastened to explain it to her.

"I never meant to even hear the rumour, but I heard Ginny and Angelina and I just can't resist my own curiosity. It will kill me one day. Anyways, I am not a homophobe. I will be your friend- you don't have to worry about losing me..."

And then it clicked.

Someone thought he was gay... and having glorious gay sex. He knew where it came from of course, the limp had still been visible this morning, and it had gotten more pronounced through the day.

Dear Merlin- he'd gotten tortured and they thought he was gay.

It was just too surreal to take in. so Harry did something he hadn't done in years.

He burst out laughing.

It was such a sudden and unexpected thing that Hermione looked vaguely disturbed, her had still poised where it had been moving to hold his in support.

Finally, Madame Prince came and 'shush'ed them. Though she herself seemed disturbed by his hoarse laugh.

Finally calming himself he shook his head. "Mione, I'm not gay."

"You're not?"

"No." He gave her a dazzling grin. "I am not, nor have I ever been, attracted to men."

The very thought was disgusting to him- maybe if he hadn't been... forced. Maybe then he would have wondered, but now he knew for a fact.

"... Oh." Hermione said, eyes wide. "Well. This is awkward... Oh no. Oh God no... Harry..." She turned those huge eyes on him and they were filled with fear. "This is about Voldemort isn't it?"

Smart girl. She knew he only talked when the material to be discussed was too valuable to be written down.

"Yes."

"But... how do you know? I mean... he doesn't have Neville- does he?"

"No... and he's not planning on kidnapping him this year either."

"Then what...?"

"He's going to get an agent to kill him during the Tournament." Harry said grimly, all traces of earlier merriment gone.

"Oh no! That's horrible!"

"Yes... and..."

"Then we need to warn Neville!" She said, her fist smacking her palm. Harry caught her just as she rose from her seat and pulled her back down.

"Don't be ridiculous!" He snapped. "If we do that Voldemort will know something's up. And that wouldn't be any good, now would it?"

"Harry- you can't let that happen! You just can't! I mean... that would just mean that... he's actually really sweet Harry!"

"What do you want me to do about it?" Harry asked irritably. After all, he was the one who had gotten tortured and threatened. It was the people he loved and cared about that were in peril.

"What you always do- find a way to protect him. Please?" Those huge doe-brown eyes are staring at him.

"What am I? His body guard?" Harry doesn't care- his tenuous grip on his temper is starting to snap. He should go get a smoke, should calm down, but right now he's sore and he's so Merlin damned tired that he can't think straight.

"What? Harry- no..."

"Because it's always me who ends up saving all your asses! Maybe, just maybe I'm tired of this bullshit!" He growled at her, face twisted in rage.

SMACK!

Harry's hand flew to his cheek, green eyes wide in disbelief. Hermione was breathing hard, having stood up, with her hand still in the air.

"You... you jerk! How _dare_ you! I never once asked you to come after me. And I appreciated it every time you did. So don't you _dare_ cheapen our friendship like that!" And then she was gone in a flurry of frizzy brown hair and the smell of ink.

Shit.

Talk about royally fucking up.

HP-BaB-HP

Severus Snape was currently suffering from a headache.

Damn those idiotic first years, they'd blown up a simple burn ointment. It was ridiculous and simply unacceptable- in saving them he'd lost yet another set of robes. And it wasn't as if he had a never ending bank vault with which to pay for them.

He was so bloody broke that he bought them all second hand, died them black and tailored them himself.

Yes, he knew how to sew, his mother had been a seamstress. He had helped her make clothes for the rich people, he could embroider some rather elaborate patterns.

He still had the pillow his mother had made for him- from the olde magicks- infused with her love and wishes for him. She had taught him to needlepoint cushions too, although she had been very careful not to let him imbue his magic into the pillow.

He hadn't been old enough when she had died.

And there his thoughts took a depressing turn. He refused to allow his day to take this turn- getting doused in failed potion was one thing, getting all teary eyed over his less-than-ideal childhood was another.

He was currently dressed in a plain white swordsman shirt, his breeches black, with his still unblemished dragonhide boots. Now, those where an investment. Comfy and durable- they were worth every galleon. Other pieces of clothing merely didn't last long enough in his business to justify spending anything more than sickles on them.

Books and journals were a much better investment.

Speaking of, he had just received the new Potions Quarterly and he was looking forward to reading it. But he had to put Harry back in one piece first.

Speaking of- the brat was late.

It wasn't unheard of, but it was hardly the norm. Surely he hadn't managed to get himself into yet another pickle! Generally it was Longbottom who got into these messes! Merlin, where had he gone wrong exactly? He was the only father figure the boy had- so where had he gotten this ridiculous hero complex from?

_From you, you dolt!_ His inner voice sniped.

_I have no idea what you're talking about._ He told the voice in no uncertain terms.

_Oh please- why did you become a spy?_

_I was young and foolish. I am no longer like that!_

_Of course not. You told the boy all he needed to save that Granger girl because you thought he'd sit back and relax. And you covered for him because you felt... nothing for him?_

_Shut up._ He told the voice quite firmly.

A knock at the door alerted him to Harry's arrival and saved him from his own thoughts.

When he let the boy into the room, however, he looked rather like a drowned cat. All miserable and slouched.

"Alright- spit it out. Whatever's bothering you." Snape said as the boy took up residence on his couch. The boy threw him a stony glare.

"Don't make this more difficult than it need be."

"I was mean to Hermione, alright?"

"Hmph. And that makes you look like a drowned cat? I'll call the wedding planners."

"I hurt her. That's... not good." The boy finished lamely. Severus set to knitting the wounds further.

"Mister Potter- sometimes we say things we do not mean. Or that we mean in the heat of the moment. That does not mean that all is lost. An apology is usually sufficient to rectify things."

When he looked up at the boy, the boy was staring at him like he was a bug under a magnifying enchantment. Severus scowled at him.

"What?"

"You sound like you're talking from experience." Was all Harry said.

"... I apologized once. A long time ago." Severus murmured. The shock was evident on the boy's face and he gave a bitter laug.

"Yes, I apologized. There was only really one person I ever apologized to, you know. I loved- and still do love her with all my heart."

"Who was this remarkable woman?"

"Your mother."

Harry's eyes went wide and Severus ran a hand over his face. Now he'd done it- he'd told the boy too much and so his tenacious personality wouldn't let it go until the truth was dragged out from the darkest recesses of Severus' soul.

"My... my mother?"

"Indeed. We were rather close friends here at Hogwarts. For a time, and then we both bowed to peer pressure. I said some horrible things, she said some horrible things and just like that we were no longer anything but enemies."

"So apologizing doesn't work." The boy mumbled dispirited.

"That depends, I suppose, on how the apology is handled and how stubborn the two of you are."

"What was she like? My mother?" Came the uncertain question, and suddenly Severus was harshly reminded that the boy was only fifteen years old. And no-one had ever taken the time to discuss his parents with him.

Severus sighed in resignation. "She was... beautiful, smart, determined, stubborn, kind and ridiculously bad at household spells."

Harry smiled a bit at this statement.

"I met her a few years before we came to Hogwarts, and we became best of friends. But I was sorted into Slytherin, and she became a Gryffindor. In the end I became embroiled in the dark arts and blood sports. Your mother found this- along with a slur I hurled at her in my humiliation- to be simply unforgivable.

And so she did not forgive me. I was forced to watch as she started dating your father, and eventually they were married. They had you and I watched as your mother changed from a young girl into someone who adored you. You were the centre of her universe."

Here Severus gave a wry smile. What would he have given to have her look upon him like that? To be the father in that happy trio?

Anything.

He would have given anything.

"And this is supposed to be convincing me to apologize?"

"You and Miss Granger have been through much more than your mother and I ever were. Saving someone else's life creates a bond that is nearly unbreakable."

"... Oh."

There was a few moments of blissful silence, and then...

"How did they die?"

Severus flinched. "Your mother died fighting the Dark Lord... Your father was killed by his best friend."

Harry frowned. "I thought you said I was her entire universe?"

"You were. That is why she took up arms against the Dark Lord- to ensure that you would be allowed to live a peaceful life. The life of an Auror is ever uncertain, and your mother somehow always ended up on the front lines, no matter how James Potter and I tried to prevent it.

Even her boss tried to convince her to saty back, as the first female Auror he felt that she was too much of a distraction to the men, who would automatically try to protect a woman. But she would have none of it. And she won their respect by not accepting any special treatment.

She fought bravely- and she died bravely. She died to protect you, even though you were just three months old."

Severus did not add that it was his fault- that he had turned spy the moment he had realized that the Dark Lord had his Lily in his sights. That he had unwittingly fed the Order false information. That he had failed her.

There was another silence and then: "What about my father?"

Severus scowled. "He... he let his friend into his house. The friend turned on him and killed him. The Aurors hunted him down and found him laughing maniacally amongst a mountain of Muggle corpses."

"So why wasn't I killed?"

"The Headmaster was alerted to someone's presence in the house. He surprised the man before he could kill you." He didn't mention that Harry had probably been spared because of the prophecy.

"Seems like he keeps trying to kill the people I love."

"The Dark Lord takes great pleasure in killing people. Whoever they may be. Now, go to bed. You need all the sleep you can get." Severus made a shooing motion with his hand.

"Why wasn't I the Boy-Who-Lived? I mean, the prophecy... I was born close enough to Longbottom to get Voldemort's attention, wasn't I?"

"Your parents were very careful to keep your birth a secret. Especially considering your mother's profession. Aurors have to be very careful when it comes to their families. It was made much easier by the fact that your father's family was dead, and your mother's were all Muggles. She had cut all ties with them when the Dark Lord became a threat the first time.

The Longbottoms did not have this luxury. Their family celebrated the birth of an heir in the traditional ways, and so the Dark Lord only knew of Longbottom's birth."

"So... my parents' paranoia saved me?"

Severus gave him a wry smile. "And people say paranoia like it's a bad thing."

Harry got up, but turned back at the portrait that would lead him to the hallways. "Thank you, Professor, for trying to save her."

And then he was gone, leaving a shocked Severus Snape in his wake.

HP-BaB-HP

Hermione Granger was miserable.

And angry.

But mostly she was just plain miserable. She couldn't believe that Harry had been quite so callous. Hell, she couldn't believe she'd smacked him!

With a sigh she fell back onto her bed.

This was not what she wanted. She wanted all of her friends alive and happy. She didn't want to fight with them or have to keep huge secrets from them. Then again, she supposed that was a really stupid mentality to have.

You can't always have what you want, but sometimes you can get what you need.

Great- she was quoting Muggle classics. She turned onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow. What was she going to do? Could she honestly just let Neville go in blind? Didn't he deserve to know Voldemort's plan?

But then... the person who had told Harry would get into trouble, maybe even die. And Harry might even get into trouble- she didn't want that.

What did she do? How did you make these sorts of difficult decisions?

She allowed a few frustrated tears to run down her face.

At times like these she felt cheated. Her beloved books couldn't help her here, this was the sort of thing most people decided according to their gut. But Hermione's gut had never really been all that active- she preferred using her brain to make these decisions.

Gah! Why was this so freaking complicated?

A soft fluttering noise caught her attention. She looked up to see a beautifully folded dragon gracefully glide down onto her bed. Sniffing a bit and brushing away the tears, she carefully took the little note and opened it.

_Dearest Hermione, _

_Please forgive me my unacceptable outburst earlier. Hurting you was the furthest thing from my mind, and I cannot accurately express my feelings of absolute disgust with myself. _

_And yet I still hope that you will find it in your courageous heart to once more bless me with your beautiful smile. _

_Regretful and ever hopeful, _

_Harry. _

Hermione let out a choked little sob as she read the note. It was hardly the most poetic thing she'd ever read, but the thought and the compliments were sincere and she was a sucker for his big green eyes.

With a lot more energy than she had felt before, she threw on her cloak and headed down the stairs to the common room. It was a typical lazy evening, with some people doing homework and some people playing games.

Ron was currently beating Neville at chess.

Hermione slipped out with very little trouble and whispered a spell to find Harry. They'd invented it last year, built into tattoos they'd both gotten in Hogsmead.

Yup, she Hermione Granger, had a tattoo.

It was very pretty really, a small lotus blossom on her hip bone. The little tracking charm they'd worked into it allowed only their spell to find each other and would glow if any tracking spells were to be cast on them.

Harry really was paranoid.

The spell pointed her to the castle grounds and she hurried outside, following the gentle glow into a recess hidden carefully behind a screen of rose bushes. There was an arch, with its frame gently glowing with blue engravings that Hermione had never seen before.

She stepped inside and was greeted by an amazing sight.

Harry Potter standing in front of a glowing white sphere, with disks spinning around a central axis which reminded her of a model of an atom she had once seen, with a huge white tree projecting from the disks.

The tree was in full bloom, the faint pinkish colour at the base of the lotus blossoms the only colour in the room.

The eerie light bleached Harry of all colour, giving him an ethereal glow and making him seem like something from another world.

"Harry?" She asked, uncertainly, her voice almost absorbed in the eerie empty space.

He turned to her, his eyes questioning, and then he smiled.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven then?" And he looked so genuinely happy at that thought that she just had to hug him.

"Oh Harry, you could never do anything that I wouldn't forgive you for."

HP-BaB-HP

**A/N:** Dun dun dunnnnn...! Oh Hermione, you shouldn't make promises like that.

Wow! Apparently bribery works on you guys- I got a slew of reviews for the last chapter! Thank you all **so** much. Again- every fave/alert/review honestly does make my day.

Chapter notes: Okay. So I know what I promised for this chapter, but the characters insisted on having more drama. They insist on getting their moments and having proper character development. Damn.

Also: **This is not, and never will be, a slash fanfiction.** Harry isn't gay, but the girls think he is. They're school going girls, and where I went to school these sort of misunderstandings flourish. There is no offense meant to gay people, or people with delicate sensibilities. Ok? Ok!

As for Viktor Krum- I don't think the other boys would necessarily be nice to him, and I don't see him as a man of many words. Not because he's stupid, but he's just the strong quiet type. Hopefully I don't write him as 'dumb'. (And no, I couldn't resist the quote.)

Harry and Hermione's fight will be remembered by those of you who followed the first draft of this story. I happen to think that anyone would have and adverse reaction to their conversation. Especially after being tortured. So I think it makes Harry a little more human.

So- my explanation of why Lily and James were killed? Did you buy it? I enjoyed playing around with the whole Severus-Lily relationship, and I think that making her the first female Auror just fit into the explanation. James, in my 'verse was a politician. It doesn't really affect much of the story at the moment, but it will come up again.

And now you just _know_ that Hermione will find out about Harry's part in all of this. I find it amusing personally, exactly how paranoid Harry is. I think he'd convince her to get a matching tattoo. :D

Coming up: What exactly is with the wards and that funny tree? Does Daphne believe the rumours? Will Dumbledore ever make anything more than a cameo appearance? Will Vector triumph over the wards? Will Severus begin to realize why he's pulling Vector's hair (metaphorically)? And will those champions _ever_ arrive? Stay tuned!


	12. What is this Bull?

**Chapter 11**

"_Oh Harry, you could never do anything that I wouldn't forgive you for." _

Harry stiffened at this statement. Hermione didn't know what she was saying, after all. Couldn't realize that he had sold her friend out to the evil that lurked in the shadows behind this sanctuary. Couldn't know because he couldn't bear to see the look of betrayal in her eyes.

Couldn't bear to lose her friendship.

He dragged a ragged breath into his suddenly tight chest. Then he buried his head in her frizzy brown locks, squeezing his eyes tightly shut.

_Damn it! What am I supposed to do...?_

"Wha-? Harry? Hermione?" A surprised voice interrupted their moment.

The two turned to see Professor Vector looking behind them in astonishment. They parted as she moved past them in a seeming daze. She lifted her hand towards the tree but was stopped by the entire thing suddenly turning an angry shade of red.

"What is this?" She turned toward her students.

Harry shoved his hands into his pockets, giving her a short shrug. Hermione gave him a quick glance before she turned to Vector again.

"I don't rightly know, Professor. I found it like this."

Vector gave Harry another sharp look, but the boy met her with stony silence.

"This... this is amazing..." Vector murmured as she turned back towards the wards. "I need to take notes. Harry- did this respond to anything you could see?"

Harry hunched over even more- his paranoia in full swing now. After all- who knew what this meant? He was pretty sure even Vector didn't know. The woman gave him an exasperated sigh.

"It will become pretty obvious if you leave and these wards go back to normal." She told him.

Damn. She was right. Harry sighed and stepped out of the wards' zone.

The white sphere broke into the individual golden disks that made it up- the tree dissolving before their eyes. When he stepped back into the zone, the blinding light and white sphere once again made their appearances.

Vector stared at them in rapturous wonder. "That's just... incredible. Beautiful! This is what arithmancy is all about- do you see?" She asked her two students.

"Oh, yes!" Hermione gasped in awe.

"Mister Potter- did it always do this when you entered?"

Harry nodded dutifully at her.

"Fascinating. And all you do is step into the wards' zone?"

Another nod.

"Amazing! This is completely unheard of! I'll need some samples of course, and a detailed drawing of these things. Bathseba is having a dickens of a time trying to figure out these symbols... I don't suppose it's something one of you have come across? Because I swear, that woman doesn't even read journals..." Vector muttered to herself.

Hermione shot Harry a disturbed look. Harry made a questioning gesture with his hand.

"Erm, Professor?"

"Oh, yes Miss Granger?" Vector said, still distracted.

"What kinds of samples will you need?"

"Oh, you know. Samples of Mister Potter's magic."

At this Harry prepared to bolt but was stopped by the very firm chest of his Head of House. The man raised an eyebrow at him and Harry prepared to be dressed down.

"Severus!" Vector cried out, before she realized that there were students in the room and she was spilling parchment and chalk all over the place. She smiled nervously and ran a hand through her short curls.

Hermione stared at that, but he just pressed himself as flat against the wall as he possibly could. There was no way this would end well.

"Miranda. Imagine meeting you here." Snape's voice was dryer than the Sahara.

"Wh- I... here? Really?" Vector looked a tad bit confused. "Wait- why are _you_ here? I'm doing my job!"

"Indeed. I am merely here to punish two wayward students. Something unthinkable to a kind and caring educator like you, I'm certain."

"I... I hardly _need_ to take points you... you... great bat! My pupils happen to love me."

"And the Hufflepuff girl you made cry?"

"That was different! You might be a vampire but _I _need my beauty sleep!"

"Then I shall have to take over your lesson plans, as you're obviously not getting enough sleep."

A piece of chalk hit Snape's nose and Vector gave a maniacal cackle. "Oh look- I just hit the biggest part of you, scrawny scarecrow that you are."

Oh Merlin. That was their sign to get the hell out of there. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and hared out of the door just as Snape got into his own insult.

Something about the pot calling the kettle black. Though far more eloquently worded.

Hermione though, was looking almost ridiculously pleased about something. As though Snape's tongue didn't put the fear of bloody Voldemort (or Merlin, whatever works) into her. Hell, he was a Slytherin and he had a healthy fear of the man.

Still, once they were out of the danger zone he slowed enough for Hermione to catch up to him, instead of dragging her off. She linked her arm merrily with his and started telling him all about how brilliant a tactician Weasley was.

Something had to be done about that guy.

No way was he letting that cretin anywhere near her.

"You know, I'd love to see the two of you playing some chess. Wonder who'd win?"

What. The. Hell?

No. Never. He refused. That was the one whim of hers that he'd never give in to. He gave her his best death glare. She laughed.

"Do you Slytherins practice your glares in the mirror or something?"

HP-BaB-HP

The darkness seemed to meld with the shadowy figure kneeling before Lord Voldemort.

"Well, my most faithful spy. Is everything going to plan?" Voldemort hissed.

"Yes my Lord. We have successfully distracted them. The true plan will unfold under their very noses and they will be none the wiser."

Voldemort laughed then, something evil and slithery. "Well done. Have you found them then?"

"I have found one, My Lord. The rest will follow quickly."

"Find them _all_. I will take no chances."

"Do I have your permission to use force, My Lord?"

"Of course, I do so love force. Be sure to break them- and break them properly. But do not kill them unless absolutely necessary. No one can know what we are doing."

"Yes, My Lord. Thy will shall be done."

"See to it. I will tolerate no failures."

The shadowed figure slinked backwards, all the while keeping its hood up to hide its smile.

This was going to be fun.

HP-BaB-HP

_It was... peaceful. _

_That was the first thing he noticed. The feeling of absolute peace that permeated the air. There was grass under him, long enough to hide him if he so wished. And a playful breeze mucked about all around him. _

"_This is a beautiful place- truly." The female voice from his dreams said. _

_Harry's eyes flew open even as he launched himself backwards- straight into a tree. _

"_Fear not, Heir of the Lotus Tree. Tonight your sleep will be peaceful. No dreams will torment you- the shadows of your past have been dealt with." The woman who spoke was beautiful. _

_She was obviously of some Asian race- her golden skin and almond shaped eyes attested to that. Her white hair was done up with elaborate combs and she wore a fine white kimono, with golden embroidery which made her grey eyes take on an almost golden sheen. _

_And when she smiled at him, it spoke of serenity and peace. _

"_Wha-?" He stopped. It didn't hurt to speak here, despite his voice still being gravelly. _

"_You cannot feel pain here, Lotus. For this is a plane of being that transcends all others- a place that very few people are chosen to have access to." _

"_Chosen? Plane of being? Dear Merlin, I'm going insane." _

_She laughed- a sweet tinkling sound. "No, you are not going insane. But you are maturing enough to be informed of your destiny. Of the fact that you are one of the chosen ones." _

_Shit- that sounded like something from the bad kung-fu movies he always snuck Adrienne into. _

"_I am Mika- one of your teachers on your journey." _

"_Uh, hi." _

"_I believe it is only good manners to introduce oneself? Even in the strange West?" _

"_I... I'm Harry. Why do you keep talking in my dreams? What do you mean the shadows of my past have been dealt with?" Harry asked, confusedly. _

_The woman hummed. "All in good time. First- we must engage in the tea ceremony."_

"_Why?" _

"_Because you have not yet settled here- see?" She said as she gestured to a patch of the sky that suddenly seemed to darken and disappear. "Some tea will calm you." _

"_Some answers would be a lot more likely to calm me." _

_The woman merely smiled serenely and proceeded to conjure a low table, two cushions and a full tea set out of thin air. _

_Harry gaped at her, even as the field behind her flickered and blurred. She then began some elaborate ritual, which fascinated him enough to take a seat on the cushion he was assigned. _

_After the ceremony was through he sipped gingerly at the tea- it was quite delicious really, it tasted like fresh green apples on a hot summers day. The woman- Mika- smiled at him over the rim of her coffee cup. _

"_It is a special brew, made for calming. It reads your happiest memories and makes it taste like them. Quite unique really. Much like you." She gestured toward the field they were in, and for the first time ever Harry saw that the trunk he had been up against was the same lotus bearing tree that had popped up in the warding walls. _

"_Wait- how do I know that the place with the strange disk is called the called warding walls?" Harry asked her. _

"_Some knowledge will be innately within you. Some will have to be learned."_

"_Okay- so teach me. What's with the bloody tree?" _

_She smiled at him. "The 'bloody tree', as you put it, is your sign."_

"_My sign?"_

"_Hm. Much like a family crest, although this does not pass through families. It is given to the chosen few." _

"_... I don't even know where to begin questioning you about that." _

"_Good. Forget your questions now, and listen:_

_Once, there was a beautiful princess named Tsuki. She was so beautiful that all the universe courted her, from the sun to the furthest stars. _

_The stars gave her pearls and diamonds and all things that glittered and sparkled, like her eyes. _

_The sun, however, gave her magic. For the Sun knew that she would use her magic for good, and that it would bring prosperity to the peoples of the earth. _

_The princess did indeed use her gifts wisely, and the people of the earth flourished and were happy and blessed. _

_Tsuki thanked the Sun immensely, and he bade her to use her magic to allow him a day with her. _

_The two fell instantly in love, and were married soon after, despite that they could only spend one night of each year together. They had nine healthy children- all of whom inherited their parents' gifts._

_But the evil Dragon, Hyorimaru, was jealous of the princess' gift and of her love for the Sun. So it hatched an evil plan. _

_He gathered his armies and attacked the castle, intent upon snatching all that was lovely and good from the world. _

_The princess bade her servants to take each child to a safe place and hide them there. Then she turned to fight the dragon- but after a fierce battle she was felled by a greedy servant's arrow through her back. _

_Hyorinmaru let out a great cry of victory, even as the sun cried for his beloved wife. _

_The children were hunted down one by one, as Hyorinmaru and his followers sought to claim magic as their own. But the magic could not be commanded by them, for it was not given to them out of love. And so they never did gain any magic, their struggles were for nought and they ended up killing each other out of greed and petty jealousy. _

_But the stars saw this, and they took the princess' spirit and fashioned for it a new, shiny body, which they kept aloft in the heavens with them. So that the sun may look upon her each day, though they can never touch again. _

_And the stars also erected at each site that a child was killed an arch. _

_These arches allowed the children a place for their spirits, and their magic flowed into the earth, joining into a great net that criss-crossed the earth. _

_And so it was that the magic became imbued into the earth itself. _

_It allowed crops to be grown, and eventually imbued enough magic into people so that they became wizards, witches, shamans, sangomas... _

_And that is how we came to be." _

"_... What kind of bullshit is this, exactly?" Harry asked her, brow cocked. _

_She merely laughed again, and put down her cup. "This 'bullshit' is your lesson. Think on it, and return to me with your thoughts tomorrow." _

And then he was dumped unceremoniously on the doorstep of consciousness. Just in time for the alarm to go off.

Harry groaned and threw his pillow at the wall. Why did this chick think that she had to be all mysterious and shit? Was it really that much to ask someone to just come out and say something?

This was going to be a long day.

HP-BaB-HP

It had been a long day so far, Fleur Delacour thought as she stared into the mirror in her room on the carriage.

Being couped up with so many people... well. They had nowhere to go but the inside of this damned carriage and there were only eight of them (the winners and runners up of each of the four testing categories) and Madame Maxime on board.

They'd had a few fights.

Things had even ended in tears last night. Marie and her boyfriend Henrie had gotten into a nasty lovers' quarrel, and it had taken them hours to forgive each other. They had then celebrated getting back together with a hectic bout of making out.

On the other side of her wall.

Fleur shuddered at the thought. She knew a lot more about those two than she had ever really wanted to know now.

And now, here she was, in her silvery Beaubaxtons uniform trying to decide whether she should wear her hair up or down.

Maybe she should braid the two front pieces of her hair, and then pin it around her head? A classic style, which also solved her conundrum as it was a bit of both.

"_Fleur- Madame Maxime says we will be landing in five minutes!"_ Marie's voice came from outside her door.

"_I will be there, thank you."_ Fleur replied, even as she set her nimble fingers to do the braids. She was done in three minutes and headed for the general commons of the carriage where all the others were already waiting for her.

"_Ah, here we all are! Get ready to disembark everyone- and remember: be on your best behaviour. You carry the people of France with you now!"_ Madame Maxime chided.

There was a general murmur of consensus.

The landing was a bit rougher than Fleur would have liked- she had always had motion sickness, and the lurches of the carriage landing turned her a faint shade of green. But she refused to throw up.

It was only her sheer strength of will that saved her from making _that_ kind of entrance.

The first thing to hit her upon disembarking from that damnable carriage was the cold. It bit through the flimsy fabric of her silk uniform like the teeth of an angry hyppogrif. Next to hit was the shivers.

Ugh. She hadn't even spent five minutes here and she already hated this cold, dreary place.

She could only hope that it was warmer inside that castle. She hated the cold- her Veela blood couldn't handle cold. And when Veelas got cold they tended to get bitchy.

She had a feeling that she was going to spend this entire trip being bitchy.

There was much fuss and ado as the English headmaster greeted her headmistress. Fleur just wanted to get inside before she froze to death.

But nooooooo, they have to wait for those idiots from Durm-something or other. Damn them.

And then the glassy lake bubbles, a ship finally pops out and a bunch of boys swarm down the gang plank like insects. Once again there is pomp and circumstance as their headmaster is welcomed and then _finally_ they can go into the castle.

Which is draughty.

And only marginally warmer than the outside.

This blows. Literally.

She shivers again and then there is a warm cloak around her shoulders. She looks at the boy who draped it around her shoulders. He merely gives her a brilliant smile and then he's gone in a whirl of black hair and green eyes- so fast that she's not sure that he's not a ghost.

That was... weird.

But unexpectedly nice.

Not nice enough to get her into a good mood but she does feel less cold and less cranky because of it. Obviously he knows something about Veelas. Maybe it won't be quite so bad.

Her optimism only lasts until the English headmaster starts his speech. It's still cold enough for her to be cranky and she's hungry and so she asks the ginger to "pass ze bouillabaisse" somewhere in the ridiculous speech.

She leaves the dining hall too quickly to be polite, but she simply cannot care in this harsh cold.

And then she's back in her room and getting into her flannel nighties and ensconcing her frozen feet into her knee high fluffy striped socks. A guilty Muggle pleasure, but one she is incredibly glad of.

She spells her bedding with the strongest heating charm she can manage and crawls under the covers where she spends the next hour shivering pathetically. She finally manages to get warm and falls into a deep slumber.

HP-BaB-HP

Daphne Greengrass, meanwhile, is sitting in the general common room listening to Urquart and Vasey's latest Gryffindor taunting ditty.

Her heart isn't honestly in it, but she needs the distraction to keep her from overthinking things. Harry is- supposedly- gay. She's been begging every deity she can think of to make it not so.

She hadn't confronted him about it of course, mostly because he's been spending most of the day with a look of extremely sexy brooding on his face and lurking in the library.

She's not quite sure what that's about.

Maybe he was looking for something important. Or maybe he was dreaming about his lover.

No, scratch that. She'd seen many a lovesick look in her time and he hadn't been wearing it. Besides, who would be his lover? Draco? No. There honestly wasn't any attractive force between the two of them. Teddy perhaps? Nope. No spark there either.

Someone from another house?

It was ridiculous really, she hadn't even seen him really interact with any male except for the ones in Slytherin. And of course Longbottom and his cronies.

Oh dear Merlin.

Of course- he and Longbottom were hiding the unresolved sexual tension between them behind their brawls. This was horrible. Tragic. Longbottom would probably just use him for sex and then leave him- crushing his heart like a delicate porcelain figurine.

So deep was she in thought that the hand on her shoulder made her start in surprise. She looked up to see those wonderful green eyes looking quizzically at her.

She blushed. "Oh! Erm, hi Harry!" She says and her voice is just a bit too high and she's trying too hard to sound friendly.

He frowns at her for a moment before a look of realization crosses his face and then he's leaning into her personal space and his mouth is right next to her ear and his gravelly voice causes a puff of air to hit it and oh dear Merlin he's so close and that feels so good and...

"I'm not gay." The voice rasps.

Daphne's too busy trying not to grab him then and there to really immediately realize what the words mean.

It's only after he's backed away from her and shook his potions book with a look of amusement that the words sink in. _He's not gay_.

Oh.

Oh thank Merlin!

She gives him a bright smile and tries to get her body under proper control. "Oh, right. Of course not! I mean, I know you better than that! Never believed the rumours. Not even for a second. Nope. Not me."

He shakes his head and gives her a little amused chuckle.

HP-BaB-HP

**A/N:** Thank you all so much for your reviews/favs/alerts! They make organic chemistry better- and that's saying something! (Especially since I wrote this instead of studying... Oops?)

Uhm. It has been pointed out to me that my A/Ns are getting very chatty. Sorry about that. I now have a forum where I will be putting the FAQs and so on forth. It's not really running at the moment since, apparently, I have missed out on something somewhere when it comes to actually _posting_ in my own blooming forum... I'm getting off topic again. Sorry.

**There be a poll** on my page! So go **vote!**


	13. Harry v The HWA

**Chapter 12**

_There is a breeze again, and the sensation of long grass carefully cradling his body. _

"_Hello, Harry." That mellifluous voice bursts his peaceful bubble. Harry frowns, before accepting that he seems fated never to be able to just enjoy this place. _

"_Have you thought upon last night's lesson?" Mika asked serenely as she poured them both tea. _

"_Do I get to ask questions tonight?" _

_She gave him a measuring look. "You may ask, but if I feel that you are not ready for the knowledge, I will not answer. And only after you tell me your thoughts about last night's lesson." _

"_It wasn't a lesson. It was a butchering of several Japanese fairy tales." He shrugged as he took a sip of his tea. _

"_Actually, it was the original version, lost in the mists of time. And it is not originally Japanese, although I did tell you that version." _

_Harry frowned at her. _

"_Let us not get bogged down in technicalities this evening. Surely you must have thoughts on the _lesson_ behind this tale." _

"_Love hurts. Never trust dragons. Good people tend to die." _

"_Such cynicism."_

_Harry shrugged. "I'm a realist." _

"_Perhaps. Though it is sad to see it in one so young." _

_There was silence as the two stared at each other. _

"_Do I get to ask questions now?"_

"_Of course." She gestured at him with a single petite hand. _

"_What is this place?" _

"_This is _you_. It is... the place where your mind, magic and spirit meet." _

"_So... this is all in my head." _

"_Goodness no. It is far less corporeal than that. It is... not actually part of your body. And it is not merely an imagined place. Though it is completely yours." _

"_That makes no sense." _

_She smiled at him. "Then perhaps I can explain it as tonight's lesson. Look at this:"_

_She waved her arm and conjured a glowing golden sphere. Another wave of her hand and the sphere was cut in half to show two disks perpendicular to each other, the vertical one was red and the horizontal one blue. Another disk (this time green) then appeared and cut diagonally through the point where the other two disks met. _

"_This is a rough representation of the three dimensions that people live in. The x-, y- and z-axes of existence are all encompassed and represent the only things they can see- the only things they can harness and understand." _

_Another wave of her hand an the sphere closed over the disks again. A short twirl of her index finger and the sphere seemed to twist itself into two connected egg-shaped parts around a central axis. _

_A swipe of her hand and each was cut in half to reveal that the three disks were now somewhat warped- with the red one longer now, and crossing through the nexus of the two eggs, with its mirror image in the other egg. _

_The blue disk seemed to bleed out of the first egg, flowing out and moving clockwise into the other egg at a 45° angle to the red disk. The green disk did much the same thing, bleeding out to flow around the eggs and forming a 45° angle to blue disk when seen from the side. _

"_This is the full picture. There are actually six dimensions, though they do not often meet. But where they do, there are things called 'Malango'- or gateways in Swahili. _

_Or, in my earlier tale, the spots where the children of Tsuki and the Sun died. These are important places, and could be used by any mortal to access the other three dimensions. Which is extremely dangerous. We cannot allow this. Which is where you come in- _

_you are a Guardian. Or Hifadhi. It hardly matters, what thee original terminology is right now. Your job in life is to protect your gate with your life, if need be, from those who would abuse its power. And a great many have tried, over the years. _

_That is why only the Hifadhi know of their existence, and their locations. The knowledge was abused too much in the past, and so it was withheld from mankind as a whole."_

_Harry was staring at her now, his eyes as wide as saucers. "Let me get this straight... I'm some guardian of some magical portal that has infinite potential to be used for evil?"_

"_Yes. Which is why you must continue your training. Being a Hifadhi is no easy task." _

"_Do I get a say in this?"_

"_No- you were chosen by Magic itself. That is not something you can say 'no' to." _

"_Great... I still don't know where we are though." He scrambled, trying to get a grip on all of this. _

_She smiled at him, pouring him more tea. "We are in the sixth dimension." _

"_... You're shitting me." _

_Shaking her head, she gave him a wry smile. "No, all Hifadhi have an intrinsic connection to the sixth dimension. It is within us, and yet not within us. It is our sanctuary- and the source of our magic." _

_Holding up a hand she stalled his next question. "I am not quite certain how it works. I do not think even Malesotho knows." _

"_Male-who now?" _

"_Malesotho- the oldest of the Hifadhi. You will get to know her eventually." _

"_Alright... say I believe you..."_

"_It is not a question of believing. Surely the wards have begun to accept you as their master by now?" _

"_The... you mean the spinning disks?" _

"_Yes. They are olden wards- from a time when Magic was pure still, and those from beyond the gate walked the earth freely." _

"_Those from behind the...?"_

"_Another time, Harry."_

"_Wait- Mika no-!"_

And then he was once again sitting bolt upright in his bed, the alarm screeching gratingly against his ears.

Harry fell back into the sheets and ran his hand over his face with a groan.

BaB-HP-BaB

The weather, the cloaked figure decided, was entirely too warm for its taste.

Surrounded by mountains, covered in green grass and sheep, with a little boy on a Sotho pony singing merrily as he herded them into a _boma__(1)_.

It was all too rural and the smell of dung made assaulted its nose with its stench. The grass made it itch and the heat made it sweat. It wasn't quite sure what it had expected from the mountain kingdom of Lesotho, but this suffering and lack of air conditioning was just too cruel.

At least it was cooler near the waterfall.

The figure looked up, toward where it knew the cave lay behind the fall.

That was where his target lived. In the arse end of the arse end of the world. Almost completely isolated- and that would be their undoing. A cruel smile twisted what little could be seen of the figure's mouth.

This was going to be fun.

Careful of any wards it may have missed it began its ascent, slowly circling around the bottom of the falls on its broom before zooming up and behind the curtain of water.

It breached the mouth of the cave with such speed that the old woman barely had time to react- but react she did.

Her magic was so strong that the figure had to let go of its broom in order to crouch closer to the floor. The crack of its broom snapping into splinters against the wall of the cave barely even reached its ears.

The target was an old woman- her ebony skin wrinkled with age and her eyes alive with wisdom, the blanket around her shoulders woven with many bright colours.

She also looked pissed.

And then there was the girl.

Her ebony face was young and pretty, with huge amber eyes and full lips.

An unexpected complication- but hardly something to worry about.

The old woman gave him a stern look. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"I, old woman, am your doom."

"Akga dinaô(2), Letatsi!"

"Empa(3)..."

"Akga dinaô!"

The girl seemed torn, but the figure was through talking. It drew its sword with a heavy metallic clang, throwing its wand out at the old woman and causing her to hit the back of the cave with a loud crack.

"MALESOTHO!" The girl cried, but another flick of its wand sent her crashing into another wall.

"AKGA DINAÔ LETATSI!" The old woman cried as she once again made a complicated wave with her hand and promptly sent him flying into a wall.

Still, he found his footing far easier than she did, he was pretty sure he'd done a lot of damage to her old bones with that move.

But an old dragon never dies easily.

Another complicated hand movement, followed by her clapping both hands together, and suddenly it found itself facing a bolt of angry red fire.

The figure threw itself out of the way just in time- but the smell of singed fabric filled the cave.

"You old bitch!" The figure growled as it pointed its wand at the woman- who was starting another frantic spell. But she there was blood flowing down her temple and she was slowing.

"_Crucio!_" The figure hissed, watching in satisfaction as the old woman writhed in agony on the floor.

Finally releasing the spell the figure stepped up to the old woman, smiling a twisted smile as its sword dropped into her stomach. It would be a long and painful death, the figure knew, pulling out a knife and firmly wedging it through her hand into the dung-floor of the cave.

_Ugh. Such barbarism from these savages._ The figure thought in disgust.

And then it turned to finish off the girl- there could be no witnesses after all- only to find that she was no longer there.

Shit.

BaB-HP-BaB

"_Fleur! Wake up! Or you'll be late for breakfast!" _Henrie's voice filtered through the haze of sleep that seemed to hold Fleur's mind captive.

With a groan she looked at the _Tempus_ charm next to her bed.

It confirmed Henrie's statement, unfortunately. She was not at all impressed that they would all be going to classes- and eating- with these stupid British kids.

She, at least, would be doing extra projects in order to achieve her AP subjects. But Madame Maxime had insisted that she also attend regular Hogwarts classes.

Joy.

Well, today she'd be putting her name in the Goblet of Fire at least, so that was something to look forward to.

As she stretched like a cat and threw the covers back her eyes came to rest on the cloak that the strange boy had given her. Frowning, she got up and took it from the heap she had thrown it in.

How was she going to give it back? And did she _really_ have to? It was warmer than her other cloaks, that was for sure, mostly because there were several warming charms worked into the stitching. A very complex piece of magic that.

It felt... strong. And warm.

Whoever made this really cared for the person who wore this. And the person who usually wore it had just... given it to her.

_Of course he just gave it to you- you're part Veela! _The thought made her scowl. Mostly because it was true, she tended to make men forget everything but her.

_Stupid boy. Maybe I should keep it- that should teach you to be vulnerable to Veela charms!_

"_FLEUR!" _Madame Maxime's voice ripped through her inner monologue.

"_I'm coming!"_ She almost-yelled back.

Her shower was quick and utilitarian, and she avoided wetting her hair since it would only make her colder.

She was extremely grateful that today was a Saturday and Madame Maxime had allowed that their uniforms were far too flimsy for crappy British weather, so she was allowed to dress in her own clothes.

She made certain that she wore her hooded gold and green dress, with her own cloak and then the stranger's cloak over it. When she had finished pinning her hair up, she put a fur-brimmed russian hat over her head and pulled the hood over it.

The others were waiting for her by that time, but she just ignored them.

"_Very well, now that we are all finally here. I shall be taking you in to the local village today, we will be looking for cloaks you can wear over your uniforms. So that you do not freeze to death in this awful weather. Alright then- have you all written your names on scraps of paper? Yes? Good. Follow me!" _

They marched across the cold grounds and Fleur thought that these many layers really weren't comfortable, but at least she wasn't freezing. She was cold, and yes, it put her into a bitchy mood, but it was better than last night at least.

When they finally arrived in the dining hall, the Goblet of Fire was awaiting them. They lined up and put their names in, one by one.

When she put her name into the Goblet, she felt the magic scanning her, causing a sort of updraught which caught her by surprise. And then there was something that felt like approval.

That was weird.

A sudden cry of dismay came from one of the four tables in the hall, and Fleur turned to see a girl with golden blonde hair rush from the hall with her head in her hands.

Ah, the girlfriend then.

Bastard.

She was _definitely_ keeping the cloak. That would teach him to cheat on his girlfriend!

_Or he could just be a gentleman..._ _and technically it's hardly cheating._

Fleur squashed that voice with the same ruthlessness as she crushed her opponents. Men never really worked that way, as a part Veela she knew all too well that men were too weak willed to resist her.

Fucking assholes.

And fucking ridiculous girl for running out like that and crying over a man.

She sat herself down at the nearest table and promptly ignored the stares that she garnered as she looked at the oily, heavy foods on offer.

Disgusting.

She finally helped herself to some grilled tomatoes and a single egg. She heard someone mutter something about her being on a diet and frowned to herself.

It wasn't that she was on a diet, it was that she had a very sensitive digestive tract. Another thing to thank her Veela blood for. And Hogwarts seemed quite unconcerned with her dietary requirements.

Fucking British.

Fucking weather.

Fucking food.

This was going to be a long year.

BaB-HP-BaB

Harry Potter was currently scarfing down a bacon sandwich, while rereading one of his favourite arithmancy texts.

Because if what that woman- _Mika_- had told him was true, well, then it had to make a difference in the knowledge that they currently had. What did it do to arithmancy? What did that mean for potions? For healing, for transfiguration and charms?

Okay, he even wanted to know what it did about Ancient Runes.

Maybe it was more interesting in another dimension?

He doubted it, but it was a possibility.

A pounding on the other side of his door had him on his feet with his wand pointed at the wood before he could even blink.

"HARRY POTTER! WE KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! GET OUT HERE THIS INSTANT!" The voice of Pansy Parkinson yelled at him.

Completely nonplussed, Harry opened the door to see Pansy, Millie and Tracey standing in the room commons looking thoroughly vexed.

He raised an eyebrow at them.

The next thing he knew, Millie had him in a headlock (and it took all his willpower to overcome his reflexes and not hit her), and Pansy was pointing her wand at him.

Then it all went black.

BaB-HP-BaB

Miranda Vector swore.

Again.

She was honestly befuddled about these wards. Logically, they should never have let the students from the other school in. They were- as far as she could tell- supposed to keep everyone not recognized by the castle as being students her out.

Like Death Eaters and all that.

When she'd told Albus in no uncertain terms that _this shouldn't be possible_, he had merely twinkled dementedly at her and said that it had all worked out.

No need to worry or puzzle this out, it all worked out in the end.

But she did worry. And it did puzzle her, and she was powerless in the face of a puzzle of such complexities.

And to make things worse she was currently working with just library books on runes, since Dumbledore had also twinklingly informed her that Batsheba Babbling (the runes teacher) had gone on a romantic weekend getaway with her paramour.

That she had met on that blasted singles cruise.

In a fit of temper (probably her tenth that day) she threw the book she was currently trying to puzzle out on the floor.

A few seconds ticked by...

… and then she sighed and picked up the book again.

It wasn't the book's fault that Bathsheba seemed to have turned into a complete idiot since this mystery man had entered her life. That was all Bathsheba's fault.

Obviously.

"Vector, are you currently dying?" The dry voice of Severus Snape barked outside her door.

"No!" She snapped at him.

"Then why were you absent from breakfast? You are hardly voluptuous enough to afford such ill eating habits."

"SHUT IT SNAPE!"

"Ah, yes. Apparently you are truly not dying. That was merely the groans of your last brain cell giving up."

Miranda stormed to the door, opening it with such force that Severus arched an eyebrow in surprise.

"My last brain cell will never give up!" She shouted at his chest, since she was quite a bit shorter than he.

And then she realized what she'd said.

Snape was looking far too amused.

"Not that I only have one brain cell, mind you, I mean, obviously not! No, no. No me- I have more brain cells than you, you... Greasy git! Ha!"

"More than I?" Severus drawled. "Then why is it that you fall _up_ the stairs Miranda?"

"Because I have bad large motor skills and they keep _moving_!"

"Perhaps if you had more brain cells..."

"Oh shut up you dungeon dwelling dimwit."

"Tsk. So unoriginal."

"Ugh! Impossible man!" She said, waving the book in the air. The book caught Severus' attention and he grabbed her arm to get a better look at it, frowning as he read the title.

"What on earth are you doing with the sixth year prescribed text for Ancient Runes, you daft woman?"

"Wha-! I'm doing _research_! And I have to use this because Bathsheba's off gallivanting with her lover boy, so I have no other option!"

"Stupid woman, I have a rather brilliant understanding of the subject. You could merely ask me."

"I could? I mean- you do?"

"Hm. I did my second Masters on the effects of runes in cauldrons on healing potions."

"You did?"

"Of course. It was a logical topic."

"Oh."

"Yes."

That was when Miranda realized he was still holding her wrist captive. She jerked away from him with a "Let go!".

Unfortunately Severus was unprepared for this event and they both ended up tumbling backwards onto the floor.

Even more unfortunately, the new Defense teacher- Tamara Dey- was walking by at exactly that moment and promptly turned a rather interesting shade of red before stammering an apology and running off.

The two teachers stared at each other a bit more before Miranda finally spoke up in a shrill voice.

"Get off me!"

"You are the cause of this, you numerical nitwit!"

"Yes well... you're obviously not completely ignorant when it comes to personal hygiene... I mean- get out! Out!" Miranda yelled, as she threw the nearest piece of clothing at him.

"As if I would wish to stay." He snorted, catching the offending garment and promptly leaving.

BaB-HP-BaB

When Harry finally opened his eyes again, he was pretty sure he was still dreaming.

He blinks rapidly, not really knowing why he'd dream of _this_ exactly.

The entire female population of Hogwarts is staring at him- and he's pretty sure they're sharpening their pitchforks mentally.

"What een ze name of Merlin eez zis?" An angry female voice asks from beside him, and he recognises the girl he had given his cloak to last night.

Wait- what? That made no sense...

"The meaning of this, sister," Says an obviously pissed Li Su, "is that you're on our turf now."

The HWA.

The HWA had kidnapped him.

"Excuze moi?"

"You heard me. You're encroaching on our turf. And you-" she turns on Harry suddenly and viciously, "you are going to stop playing games with us right this instant!"

Harry leans as far back from this clearly deranged girl as he possibly can, noting that she's definitely not safe to leave Hermione or Daphne around.

He supposes Millie could probably take her on- physically.

"Now- is this your cloak?" She asked, pointing accusingly at the garment the French girl still wore.

Harry nodded, deciding to humour her while he worked on his bonds.

"Did you give this girl this cloak?"

"Zis girl 'as a name!" The Frech girl snapped.

"Shut up." Li hissed at her. "Now answer the question Mr Potter!"

Another nod from Harry.

"And why would you do such a thing? Hm?"

Harry shrugged. She'd been cold, and she obviously had Veela blood. Experiences with Draco had taught him that Veelas didn't do well in cold.

"He shrugs at me- he shrugs at me!" Li screeched at him. Millie stepped up and put a calming hand on her shoulder.

"I weel be going now. Zees ees just seely!" The French girl said.

"Shut up." The entire congregation chorused.

"I weel not!"

"Millie, shut her up."

Millie moved toward the other girl just as Harry's magic erupted wildly from him and sliced through the ropes, knocking the gang of girls back quite a bit.

He grabbed the French girl around the waist and high tailed it out of there- the French girl cursing and hitting him wildly all the while.

When Harry reached the front lawn and found it devoid of any girls suffering from mob mentality, he put her down and used his boot knife to cut the ropes around her wrists.

She promptly slapped him.

"What do you seenk zat you are doing? No one touches moi wheezout permeession!"

Harry gave her a shocked look- the second time that a girl had slapped him in as many weeks. He'd actually been helping her.

Another slap.

"And zat eez for cheeting on your girlfriend! You 'orrible man! And I am keeping ze cloak!"

And with that she stormed off to the Beaubaxtons carriage.

HP-BaB-HP

**A/N:** This chapter is for Goldrune09- who so hoped the HWA kidnapped Harry. Not quite what you were hoping for, methinks, but it did happen.

Ah, the poor HWA, meddling and getting a bit of what they deserve. Harry will be glaring at them intensely later.

And Fleur is a _bitch_. Yes, yes she is. But she gets better. She's a teenage girl with issues- some girls cry, Fleur slaps guys who are nice to her. Obviously she has trust issues. :D

**Thank you**to all my reviewers and fav'ers and watchers. You're like caffeine to me. Addictive and tasty.

**Chapter notes/ translations:**

_(1) Boma_- a cattle enclosure, made of stone usually.

(2) Akga dinaô- the equivalent of "run" pretty much. My Sotho is terrible, so it's not gramatically correct...

(3) Empa- "but"

(4) Malesotho- a name meaning Mother of Lesotho.

(5) Tamara Dey- defense teacher. Yes, I know, it should be Umbridge, but do you see the ministry taking over the school in my fifth year AU? Nope. Thus it couldn't be Umbridge. "Tamara Dey" is the lead singer of a very cool SA band. So I figured I'd pay her a bit of tribute. :D

Hopefully the description of the different dimensions made sense. If not, let me know and I'll try to fix it. Although I bet you weren't expecting that. :D

Fleur's a bitch, and this chapter was more of her talking _at_ Harry (or being horrible to him) but hey, at least I didn't make you wait another twelve chapters for it! Yes, all you disgruntled readers out there. I heard you.

As to why it's so slow moving... this story has grown ridiculously out of proportion since I started it. It's now a trilogy (yep, a trilogy damn it) since I think a fanfiction reaching a hundred chapters is a bit ridiculous. That's just my opinion though.

The point is, the plot just got so damned thick that I had to split it into three parts and this is the first part. Fleur and Harry won't be getting any action in this book. But he and Daphne will. Sorry.

On a related note: Wow. The poll result stunned me! There was actually a pretty big percentage of you guys who thought it could be fun to have a spin off. The first chapter is posted- go check it out. It's called Notebook of a Numerical Nitwit.

Coming up: What happened to the Sotho girl? How's Daphne taking this development with Harry and Fleur? How do you stalk a Quidditch star? And can Mika get any more cryptic? Can Fleur handle Hogsmead? Stay tuned!


	14. Stumbling, Pushing and Other Verbs

**Chapter 13**

Harry Potter was pissed.

Generally it was a feeling he tried to avoid, but honestly, today was just ridiculous. He'd apparently offended a girl by being nice to her and was currently trying to avoid any and all females- mostly because they seemed completely psychotic.

Oh, and of course, tonight he'd be winning a rigged contest in which he would have to risk life and limb and try to find some way not to kill Longbottom whilst not getting his Adrienne killed.

He knew that teenaged angst was something to be avoided- but bloody hell! He deserved to be a little pissed at all this didn't he?

Why was it always him?

Okay, no. He just couldn't do that. He refused to turn into a fucking teenage girl.

So he'd be pissed.

Anger was much better than angst.

So by the time he skulked into Arithmancy he was certainly carrying an entire storm over his head. With hurricane force winds and lightning flashing and thunder roaring.

He threw Li Su a look that sent many a gang member running, and she gulped visibly but seemed to steel herself enough to glare back.

Hermione's mouth made a little 'o'.

"Harry- what happened? You were fine until lunch..."

Harry just threw himself into his chair and continued to glare at Li.

A hand touching his shoulder made him finally look at her, and she gave him an uncertain smile. "It wasn't Neville was it?"

Harry let himself snort mentally. Fucking Longbottom. He always seemed to be... the root... of everything.

Had he somehow put the HWA up to this? Was he too chicken to do it himself? But why kidnap that French... bitch?

It was really the kindest thing he could think of to say about her.

Which was sad.

The point being that he would have to find out whether Longbottom possibly had some kind of hold on the HWA. If he did then he'd have to put a stop to it. Meanwhile he'd just have to up the security on Hermione, Daphne and Millie.

Speaking of, he hadn't seen Daphne all day. Was she alright? Merlin- had Longbottom done something to her?

Panic clawed at his chest as images of Daphne's broken and bleeding body lying in some forgotten corridor.

Shit! How could he have been so lax?

This was all his fault.

He stood up and grabbed his bag just as Professor Vector- looking extremely harried- came rushing into the classroom.

"Harry- take a seat. We're going to be doing dungeon dwelling dim... I mean! Uh, differential equations. See how those things sound the same? Yes? Of course. Completely explainable that little Freudian slip... I mean! Erm, let's just sir down okay?"

Harry clutched his stomach and let out a pained groan.

"Oh dear! Are you feeling ill Harry? Then you'd better go see Madame Pomfrey! Don't want you collapsing again..."

Harry was out of the door by that time, and running helter skelter towards the hospital wing. It was as good a place to start as any, he supposed.

If she wasn't there he'd tear the entire fucking school apart to find her.

Because she was important to him damn it!

That thought should probably have given him a bit more pause, but he was far too frantic to grasp strange thoughts that flew through his head.

He threw back the doors to the hospital wing with a resounding crash and looked around frantically.

"Mister Potter!" Madame Pomfrey's scandalised voice rang out, but Harry was far too frantic to notice anything except for Daphne sitting on the bed the nurse was standing next to.

She looked pale, and her eyes were red rimmed from crying and she was hiccuping.

She was cute when she hiccuped.

Not the point though.

He strode over to her in concern, and her eyes grew wide as saucers.

"Mister Potter! What is the meaning of this? Bursting into the hospital wing like that..."

The nurse grew silent as Harry studied Daphne with a strange intensity. Then she let out a little huff of air, and moved towards her office.

Teenagers and their drama.

"Harry... uhm..." Daphne was looking at him with wide eyes, as he moved closer to her, inspecting her for any signs of damage.

"Was it Longbottom?" His voice was furious.

"What? No! No... it wasn't anything like that."

For some strange reason she looked immeasurably sad when she said that and Harry growled.

"Then who? Who did this to you? Because I swear to Merlin I'll rip them top shreds...!"

"Harry..."

"I'll rip them to shreds and make them into confetti for you to play with!"

Well, that was oddly graphic. Where did these feelings come from? Why was there this sort of _ache_ in his chest when he thought of anyone hurting her?

"Who Daphne? Say the word and I'll make them pay! If this was Longbottom I'm going to shove his beloved broomstick up his arse before I rip him to shreds! I'll..."

"YOU!"

Harry blinked at her.

"It was you, you idiot!"

Harry reared back like she'd slapped him, and Daphne leaned forward so that her hair would hide her expression.

"You hurt me... because... because... Harry... it... I..." She'd promised herself she wouldn't work herself into another fit. Why did he have to look like a kicked puppy when he was the one who had hurt her by immediately hitting on that French Floozy?

He'd given her his cloak for Merlin's sakes'!

"... Me?" Harry whispered hoarsely.

"Yes, idiot. You."

"I... don't understand..." And he looked honestly confused.

Daphne let out a small huff of self-deprecating laughter. "Of course you don't, you prat."

Harry was still standing there, looking adorably confused and guilty at the same time and Daphne couldn't help a slightly more hysterical laugh from escaping.

"You _really_ don't get it, do you?"

Harry just shook his head.

_Well_, Daphne thought, _you always knew he was a bit dense. You should just have flirted like a slut- then maybe you would have had a few days before he left you for a real slut._

_But now you have nothing to lose. Might as well go out with a bang._

And so, with her mind made up, Daphne Greengrass stood up and did the single most stupid, reckless, Gryffindorish thing she had ever done in her life.

"Harry James Potter- I love you." And then she pulled his head down for what was supposed to be a searing kiss but actually ended up being an awkward nose-bumping clash of lips and she ended up cutting her top lip on her own teeth.

"Daphne!" His voice was shocked when she finally let go of his neck.

"I hope you're very happy with that French Floozy of yours." She said and tried to make a grand exit.

It turned out to be a bit of a stupid thing really, because she tripped over his discarded school bag and promptly fell flat on her ass.

_Great. Elegant. Way to show him what he's missing, Daphne._ She thought, furiously swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

But when she looked up at Harry, she doubted he had noticed because he was still standing there and gaping at the spot where she'd been standing with his mouth open and a vacant expression in his eyes.

She extricated herself from the bag and turned to head for the doors when a hand closed over her wrist and she was brought in for a hug.

"Daphne." His voice sounded more hoarse than usual. And Daphne had to blink furiously to keep herself from crying into his chest.

Why did he always have to make her feel so safe?

And then there was a hand, gentle and warn, under her chin and it tilted her head up to look into those green green eyes. Eyes that were staring at her intently.

"Say that again." It was an order, really, and she was powerless to resist.

"I love you, Harry James Potter."

And there it was- something blossomed behind those eyes. Sheer wonder at her words, as though she had just given him the most wonderful gift in the world. And hope. The weight of the hope she saw blooming there had her gasping for breath.

And then there were lips against hers, brushing tentatively and softly as a butterfly.

"I think..." He rasped against her lips. "I think I love you too..."

BaB-HP-BaB

Letatsi gasped desperately for air.

She liked to think that she was fit, really, but the speed and distance she had run just didn't seem to want to mix with the sheer terror she was feeling.

There were a million questions running through her mind, really, but she simply couldn't seem to find a single answer to them.

She supposed the most important question was where she could go that the hooded figure wouldn't be able to get to her.

She needed a proper, powerful protector she knew. She daren't go home. The Figure could trace her and then it would all be over and her family would be in trouble as well.

What she needed was someone with no ties, someone who had no loyalty to anyone but magic itself.

She needed The Hermit.

Sucking in a bracing breath, she turned toward the northern borders and determined that she would sell her soul for the safety of her people.

After all, that was what princesses did.

In the real world, at least.

BaB-HP-BaB

Katie Bell smothered a giggle as she watched Viktor Krum, International Quidditch StarTM, stretch.

Angelina Johnson elbowed her in the ribs and made an exaggerated shushing motion. This made Katie giggle more, and Tracey reached out to slap her behind her neck.

Katie shot her a glare and Tracey merely stuck out her tongue at her.

They were currently secreted underneath the stands of the quidditch pitch, since they all had the last period of the day free. Tracey had been charged with taking photos of Krum for the enjoyment of the HWA, and Katie and Angelina had decided that they would suffer with her.

In the name of sisterhood of course.

When Krum went into a set of stretches that _really_ made his ass look good in those tight pants he was wearing Katie went into another fit of giggles.

"Shut up!" Tracey hissed at her.

But that just made Angelina start to giggle as well.

"Oh for...! I should never have let you guys come!"

That sent both girls into another fit of giggles.

"Ooooooooh! Cumming! With Krum!" Angelina panted out between giggles.

Katie promptly fell to the ground and bit her knuckles in an attempt to be quiet.

"Gah! Angelina! Get your mind out of the gutter!" Tracey whispered in exasperation. "I'll never get photos like this..."

Suddenly Katie's eyes took on an evil glint. "You're right. The stands are in the way, aren't they Angelina?"

Angelina's eyes got the same glint in them and she smiled evilly. "Of course you're right, Chairwoman."

And before Tracey could so much as voice a protest the two girls proceeded to shove her out onto the Quidditch pitch.

With a curse, she turned to scamper back under the stands only to be met with the sight of boy standing between her and her safe haven.

He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Can I help you?"

Judging by his accent he was from Durmstrang.

"Uh, who, me? No, no! Absolutely not! Just uh... checking the pitch to see whether there are any... uhm... kids. Making out. Under the stands. But, uh, nope! Nothing! Isn't that lucky? I'll just be going then! Bye!"

"Wif a camera?" He asked, stopping her attempts to sidestep him by grabbing her arm.

"Well, yes. How else am I supposed to prove it to the prefects?" Tracey thought that was a genius idea, really. Good lying, she patted herself on the back.

"Really?'

"Yup. Hogwarts takes rules very seriously!"

The boy snorted at her. "Yes, of course."

"So, I'll just go now."

"I do not think so."

"Well too bad. I never asked what you _think_. Now let go of my arm."

The boy glared at her. "I know what you are doing."

"I just told you what I was doing."

"You were taking photographs of Viktor."

"Psh. No. What would give you that idea?"

"I know girls." He said simply.

"Oh yeah? Well I might be a cross dresser!"

The boy started at that and promptly released her arm as if burned.

"Ha- yeah." She'd started running before his hand had properly let go of her arm, though she couldn't resist a parting shot at him. "Try that on for size!"

She was a bit winded when she reached the doors to the castle, but she none the less felt rather accomplished at the fact that the boy hadn't followed her.

Smirking to herself she whistled merrily as she went to go wash up for dinner.

She was just too fucking good, really.

BaB-HP-BaB

Fleur Delacour was not impressed.

Which, all things considered, wasn't really all that much of a revelation. But still, she thought it was worth a mention.

They were currently in some clothing store and Madame Maxime was trying to find a suitable material for their new school cloaks, and Fleur was not impressed by what she saw.

All the materials were heavy and coarse and ugly.

Much like the country they originated from, she thought viciously.

A sudden movement outside the window caught her eye, and she turned to see what it was.

It turned out to be a huge, scruffy and starved looking dog.

Casting a glance at her schoolmates and headmistress she snuck out of the store, heading for the emaciated dog. It gave her a warning growl.

"Oh, you poor leetle doggy! Shhh, I weel not 'arm you... zere now, see? I am very friendlee." She said, slowly advancing toward him with her hand outstretched towards him.

The dog gave a low whine and sank down on to the ground.

"Good doggy! See? Do you want somesing to eet? Hm?"

The dog's tail immediately began wagging and Fleur let out a little huff of laughter.

"Well zen, let's see..." Her eyes travelled the single street of the backwater village and finally came to rest on a dingy looking pub. She shuddered at the thought of having to go into it, but a look at the dog and her resolve was hardened.

The poor thing really did look very hungry.

Her steps were light, and the dog followed as though her knew what she was going to do. A shove of her hand (which she promptly wiped on her handkerchief) and she was inside.

The dog, mercifully, stayed by the door.

"'Ello?" She said uncertainly to the bar maid.

"Hello dear! What can I do for you?"

"I want ze most meaty meal you 'ave." Fleur said.

"Hm, well... I suppose we have a stew."

"Zen I shall 'ave zat."

"Alright, then. Stay put dear. Can I get you a butterbeer?"

Fleur shuddered at the thought of any more _butter_ in her system. "No sank you."

"Alright. I'll be back with your order." The woman went off to the kitchen and Fleur shuddered again when she saw the sparkly red heels the woman wore.

Honestly, was _fashion sense_ some sort of foreign concept to these people?

It had to be, because there was no other explanation for their ridiculous get ups.

The woman appeared again bearing a bowl of stew and Fleur gave her a small smile of thanks as she paid. Then a customer called for the bar maid and she headed towards the rough looking half-giant man who had seemed smitten with Madame Maxime.

Fleur surreptitiously took her russian hat and transfigured in into a bowl, transferring the stew into it and letting herself out.

The dog was still sitting there, wagging its tail hopefully and she put the bowl down in front of it.

It attacked it with a fervour and Fleur smiled indulgently. She'd had a dog when she was younger, a proper Swiss Shepard, that she'd managed to befriend in one of the back streets of Paris when she'd gotten lost.

She'd been three and petrified, and so had the dog.

But together they'd managed to survive until the Aurors had found her, and she'd been adamant about taking it home. Her parents had given in, despite the fact that it was an utterly magic-less animal.

They'd been inseparable, and Fleur had named her Morgana.

Her parents had been uncomfortable with the name, but they'd let her be.

Morgana had died last year, and Fleur had been inconsolable.

Fleur had been moving closer to the dog during her musing, and now she reached out a hand to rub the back of its neck. The dog seemed perfectly content with this attention and wagged its tail.

"Aw, poor doggy. All alone 'ere. And no one to look after you." She cooed at it.

"_Fleur!_" Madame Maxime's voice cut through the moment. "_Get away from that dog! This instant!_"

The dog promptly scampered off at this.

"_Dear Merlin girl! What do you think you're doing! That thing could be rabid! Come- we must get back for the dinner. They're announcing the champions there."_

"_Yes, Madame."_ Fleur said, her eyes still on the corner that the dog had disappeared around.

Then there was a firm grip on her arm, dragging her away. _"You'll need to wash up before that- that thing is obviously filthy! Silly girl! It could have bitten you and then what? Think girl, think!"_

Madame Maxime kept berating her all the was back to the school.

BaB-HP-BaB

Daphne Greengrass knew she was wearing a sappy, soppy, silly smile on her face.

But she just couldn't care less.

The Great Hall had been decorated for the Halloween Feast and it was all rather lovely and all the candles made her think that they should go to Madame Puddifoot's for their first Hogsmeade weekend. That's where all the couples went after all.

Couple.

She. And Harry.

They were a couple.

Daphne let loose a happy sigh.

"What are you so happy about?" Tracey's voice penetrated the little cloud of happiness she was drifting on.

"Hm. Life. I'm happy about life... isn't it wonderful Tracey?"

"Wow. Either you bounce back really quickly or Harry came to his senses."

"Oh, yes, Harry... isn't he just perfect?"

"I'm gonna take that as a 'yes Tracey, I just spent the entire afternoon snogging Harry Potter'."

Daphne giggled at this. "Oh Tracey- you're so funny."

"Shit girl, this is serious. Are you high?" Tracey asked with wide eyes.

"Yes, yes I am. High on life in all it's glorious beauty!"

"... Okay. Starting to creep me out here..."

Just then a dark boy slipped into the seat next to Tracey.

"You are not a cross-dresser." He stated.

"Oh, of course she isn't!" Daphne smiled at him.

"Daphne, shut up. Who says I'm not?"

The boy smiled at her. "I looked up the word in the deek-tio-nery. You are very much a girl- I can see."

Tracey snorted at him. "Wow. I'm surprised you know what a dictionary is. Never mind how to use it."

"I like a woman that can get herself out of, uhm, serious situations." He winked at her.

"I like a man that can recognise my brilliance. Care to sit next to me for dinner?"

"It would be my pleasure."

Daphne simply smiled at the two of them. How lovely, Tracey was getting herself a love interest. He was quite nice looking, really.

Though he had nothing on Harry.

As though summoned by her thoughts, Harry sank into the seat next to her, still damp from the shower he'd taken. He gave her a brilliant smile and she returned it.

Yup, life was rather perfect at the moment.

The arrival of Draco and Pansy with the Firsties signalled that all the stragglers had entered the hall, and so it was that the feast began.

Daphne spent more time mooning over her boyfriend than she did eating, though Harry seemed so lost in thought that he just gave her a few soft smiles when she squeezed his hand before disappearing into brooding silence once more.

He could totally pull of brooding silences.

He was so perfect.

She didn't even notice when Dumbledore got up to make his little speech. What use did she have of his speeches? What did the Triwizard Tournament matter? Other than that she'd be able to watch it all in Harry's arms.

It was going to be heavenly.

The sudden change of colour in the Goblet of Fire's flames caught her attention though, if only because Harry could look good even in that sort of lighting.

"The champion for Beaubaxtons is... Miss Fleur Delacour!" Dumbledore announced with a flourish.

The French Floozy got up and walked to the front of the hall, to polite clapping.

Daphne wondered whether she was the other woman. After all- if he was dating that French slut then she _was_ the other woman.

Oh, whatever. She wasn't going to worry about that tonight. After all- Harry had said he loved her, so he was obviously going to break up with her.

No, for tonight everything was perfect.

"The champion for Durmstrang is: Mister Viktor Krum!"

The sullen looking boy waddled up to the front to more enthusiastic clapping, especially from Tracey's new friend.

"And now- the champion for Hogwarts is:"

There was silence as the Hall held its breath.

A piece of paper flew out of the Goblet, and Daphne was staring at Harry hard enough to notice the clenching of his jaw. A sure sign that he was under stress.

She took his hand and squeezed it, giving him a smile when he looked at her.

His smile was sickly and strained, but it was there and she rubbed her hand across his arm in a soothing gesture.

"Mister Neville Longbottom." Dumbledore looked surprised at this.

Silence met that statement. Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Mister Longbottom... Please come forward. Yes, come on. Through that door if you please..."

No applause met Longbottom's trek to the door. Then Tracey hissed, "That fucking arsehole! I knew he'd find some way into this... I just knew it!"

"Bloody buggering hell!" Teddy looked completely shocked.

Harry gripped her hand tighter and Daphne noticed that he was ashen. The entire Hall was now whispering in outrage and Dumbledore was looking at the door, deeply in thought.

And then it happened.

The Goblet changed colours again.

Another slip of paper was spewed from its fiery depths.

Dumbledore seemed to catch it out of reflex.

His face went white with shock.

And then he said the damning words:

"Mister Harry Potter."

HP-BaB-HP

**A/N:** Dun dun dunnnnnnn... Yeah. We all knew that was coming. Really.

Poor Daphne. Just when she thinks everything is perfect, something like this happens. Can their relationship handle this? I mean, it's only a few hours old. That said...

Uhhhhhh... I have absolutely no idea where that first bit of **romantic schmoop** came from. Honestly. I'm not a particularly (read: at all) romantic person. Are they throwing around the "L" word a bit liberally? I... don't know. Harry and Daphne seemed quite adamant about it. And the weird changing view point thing? It just wouldn't work otherwise. So I'm sorry. (Hangs head in shame).

Also, something that may bother some of my more **observant readers**- in the previous chapter I said that Prof Babbling had gone to see her paramour over the weekend, but now Harry has class (it's a Thursday in this story). Which means that I am following the dates of GoF but the days of OoTP. Why? Because the dates work in this story, but the days don't. So why is Babbling off with her beau? Because she has no classes on Thursdays and Fridays, so she has a long weekend (lucky witch!). So Harry was having lunch in his room, and the HWA kidnapped him during lunch period. Okay? Okay!

Three guesses who the **dog** is- and the first two don't count! :D

This chapter was a lot longer, but it was just too long. So I figured this was a good place to end it. So the next dream is in the next chapter.

Thank you for all your favs/alerts/reviews! You are awesome readers! So make my day and **review! **Please!

**Coming up**: Mika returns, Harry gets a fist to the face, an important news bulletin is announced and the Sotho Princess sells her soul. Stay tuned!


	15. Demon Hermits and Journalists

**Chapter 14**

Shit.

Neville Longbottom was in shock.

It seemed to be a state with which he had become very intimately acquainted, in the past five years of his life, just usually not so soon in the year.

Or quite so publicly.

How, in the name of Merlin's saggy balls, had this happened?

Maybe if he tried logically reasoning this out like Hermione he'd get the answer...

Right. So.

He'd woken up this morning- normally. Not screaming or anything like that. So nothing strange there.

Then he'd showered, gotten dressed. Pretty damn normal.

Breakfast had been a bit interesting, since he'd drooled over that Veela girl, though not quite as much as Ron.

Classes had been normal, with Snape being a snarky git and Potter irritating him with his very existence and Malfoy snickering at one of Snape's more creative insults.

But the funny thing was that when he melted his cauldron, Potter had merely given his a strangely thoughtful look instead of his usual contemptuous one.

But Potter was under age too wasn't he?

Then again, he was a sneaky, slimy Slytherin. He might have found a way to get around it.

Lunch had been a bit weird because he'd heard someone yelling and cursing in French, but when he'd looked down the corridor it had come from he hadn't seen anyone...

And yes, he knew French.

He was terrible at potions, but he had quite a knack for languages.

Which, admittedly wasn't as _glamorous_, but it was still quite a knack. And he'd hoped it would be enough to get him a date with a pretty French girl.

He finally made it to the room with all the other champions, and the Veela girl (what was her name again? Fair? Flair? Fleur? Yes- that was it! Fleur!) flipped her hair and gave him a contemptuous look.

"Well, boy. Are you 'ere to come and fetch us? And where eez your champion?"

"I... uh... that is to say... Me." He sputtered.

Smooth Longbottom. Really smooth.

Was it a bad thing that his inner voice was sounding a lot like Malfoy these days?

The girl frowned at him. "I do not speak idiot- speet eet out boy!"

Neville was saved from answering (and making a fool of himself again) by the opening and closing of the door behind him.

Fleur looked behind him, her eyes growing wide and stabbed an accusatory finger at the space behind him.

"YOU!" She spat, not looking in the least bit happy.

Why would she be unhappy to see the true Hogwarts champion?

Neville turned around- only to find himself looking at Harry fucking Potter.

"Oi! What are _you_ doing here?" He demanded, all his previous confusion leaving at the sight of this infuriating boy.

Potter simply gave him a baleful glare and headed towards a pillar in the shadows, leaning against it and pointedly ignoring the French girl's furious indignation at seeing him.

Hm. That was a weird reaction to have towards someone you didn't know.

It really was a reaction Potter needed to _create_ in you.

Like Snape.

Except more quiet.

The doors opened once more, and this time Crouch and his cronies, along with Dumbledore and Snape.

"This is an outrage Dumbledore!" Crouch was saying.

Dumbledore merely turned to him with an incredibly serene look on his face. "Now, now. No need to be so upset..."

"There is a need Dumbledore! This cannot stand! Two fifteen year old boys?"

Karkaroff decided to put his own two knuts in at that. "Vot about two fifteen year old boys? Certainly vis cannot be your champions!"

"I agree! Zis eez preposterous!" Madame Maxime chimed in.

"Now, now. Let us all be calm..."

"How can we be calm about this Dumbledore? How? This goes against everything we arranged!" Crouch demanded in anger.

"We will accept it because we must. The moment a name enters the Goblet of Fire a magical contract is made between the person whose name is on the paper and the Goblet. Misters Longbottom and Potter _must_ compete. The Laws of Magic dictate it."

"Inconceivable!" Karkaroff cried.

"Unacceptable!" Madame Maxime agreed.

"I don't think that means what you think it means, Karkaroff." Snape sneered.

"Everyone- calm down!" Dumbledore said. "There is nothing we can do about this! The Laws of Magic are very clear on this count."

"Well..." Blustered Crouch. "No, I don't suppose we can do anything about it."

"Indeed, Mister Crouch." Dumbledore turned and smiled at the other two heads, spreading his hands in a placating gesture. "This will hardly harm your chances of winning- after all, even if they are two, they are mere fifteen year olds."

There was a sort of grumble for Madame Maxime, and a snort from Karkaroff but neither seemed all that worried anymore.

Neville turned to look once more at Potter and found himself completely floored.

The look in Potter's eyes was one that Neville only saw when he was busy facing an enemy in a duel- it spoke of cold, calculating murderous intent.

Neville swallowed hard.

This was most definitely Not Good.

He turned back to Dumbledore who smiled at him. "Now, if you'll pardon me, I need to speak to Mister Longbottom..."

"Not so fast Headmaster! First we need a little photoshoot!" A woman with blonde hair and horn-rimmed bejewelled glasses announces as she steps into the room.

"Right then everyone! I need Mister Krum and Miss Delacour to stand there- right there in front of the fireplace yes! Right then, Mister Longbottom, stand in front of them- yes right there! Perfect!"

"What about Potter?" Neville asks, a mean smirk on his face.

After all, he knows Potter hates photographs. He's never even in the Quidditch team ones, always cutting and running whenever there's a camera on the scene.

"Mister who?" The woman seems confused, even as the entire room turns towards where Potter is trying to make an escape through the only doors.

Potter grimaces under the scrutiny.

_Ha!_ Neville thinks viciously. _I'm not going to suffer this alone, Potter. Now you'll see how hard it is to live with everyone's scrutiny always on you._

"Oh my! Yes, yes! It will be a rather lovely story! "Hogwarts' Two Under Age Champions"! Come here boy, come on, in that shot right there. Stand next to the lovely Miss Delacour- that way people won't notice how, ahem, aesthetically unappealing Mister Krum really is! Yes, yes, closer together now! Say "Krupp Puppies"!"

The flash was blinding and the woman kept badgering them all into poses. She tended to take photographs of Neville the most though.

Typical really, Neville thought wearily.

By the time Dumbledore finally said "Enough!" Neville was truly tired.

He needed a break, not some competition that could end up killing him.

Because, wouldn't that just be ironic? The Triwizard Tournament killing him after years of Voldemort trying to kill him.

Ha, bloody, ha.

Dumbledore seemed to pick up on his exhausted confusion and steered him out of the room and towards his office with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

When they finally made it inside the office (he wasn't deaf- he could hear the whispers) Dumbledore pressed some medicinal chocolate into his hand and encouraged him to eat it.

"Professor..." He finally ventured, after more than half the bar.

"Yes, Neville, my boy?"

"What just happened?"

"I was rather hoping you could tell me, honestly."

"I don't know! I didn't do it, Professor, I swear!"

"Alright, Neville. I believe you. But I feel it is important that you know that other people most likely won't."

"They never believe me, sir." Wow- was that his voice? It sounded so bitter.

"Neville, in life all we can do is live so that such rumours die." Dumbledore said, kindly gazing over his glasses at him.

"I know sir... I just... do you know what happened sir?"

"Neville, I like to believe that what happened, happened because it was the right thing to happen. You are a brave, strong, resourceful boy."

Neville didn't look him in the eyes at that. Obviously Dumbledore wasn't as omniscient as everyone thought.

"People believe in you Neville."

_Oh really? Are they still going to believe in me after this?_ He thought bitterly.

"I believe in you Neville."

Well...

Shit.

BaB-HP-BaB

Harry scowled at the reporter's back.

He hated photographs- well. He hated photographs being taken of him. Bloody backstabbing Longbottom knew that too, it was the only reason he'd insisted on having Harry join them for the photographs.

Shit- what were Adrienne, Sabrina and Nanna going to think?

Snape made a jerking motion with his head and Harry followed him out. They walked in silence until they reached the portrait that guarded Snape's rooms.

Snape said the password (Bacchus) and promptly let Harry in.

Oh, this was not good.

The only times Snape let him into his rooms was when he was too injured to take care of it himself, and when they were having conversations no one was supposed to hear.

Harry could pretty much guess which one of the two was applicable here.

"Sit, Harry."

Harry threw himself onto the pink couch.

Snape, however, seemed to be quite intent on pacing on the carpet in an effort to put a hole in it. Harry remained quiet- it was never a good thing to interrupt his head of house's train of thoughts.

Finally the man seemed to tire himself out and threw himself into the wingback across from Harry.

"Well, this is a right bloody mess." Snape sighed.

Harry graced him with a look that clearly said 'No. Really? Could have fooled me!'.

"None of your attitude, Harry." The man said wearily. "This is bad."

Harry didn't even nod, because what would the use be?

"We need to find the spy."

And here Harry did nod, fervently.

"Yes, Harry, thank you so much for approving." Snape said dryly and Harry gave him a sheepish smile.

"The problem is simply that I cannot think of anyone except for Professor Dey who is new on the staff. And we would have known if it was anyone else already." Snape mused.

"So- get Dey." Harry heard himself say. "You managed to discover Quirrel..."

"Quirrel was an idiot. Whoever this is is much better than he was..."

Snape stared into the fire, and Harry just sort of slumped into the couch. Today had been a busy day, really, with far more emotions than he was comfortable with feeling in a lifetime.

He really didn't notice that he was dozing until Snape's voice caused him to startle.

"Right now, the Headmaster is giving Longbottom one of his trademarked encouraging speeches." Snape looked a bit uncomfortable at this. "I am no good with such things."

Harry just gave him a smile, he hardly needed a speech. The fact that Snape had been willing to give him one was far more encouraging than some stupid speech.

Snape cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Right then, I shall say this: you have not yet shamed me, or your House. This would not be a good time to ruin your near-perfect record."

Well, that was quite a speech, and it made Harry grin even more at him.

Snape merely arched a brow at him.

"Don't get cocky, kid."

Harry was about to take his leave, because as comfortable as the couch was, he needed to go do some damage control (and how was he going to explain this exactly? What would Daphne think now?) before it got out of hand, when a slip of paper flew from the fireplace.

Snape caught it out of reflex, and stared at it for a few long minutes before he crumpled the paper up and let loose a snarl.

Harry figured this would be a good time to let himself out.

"No, Harry. This concerns you."

That took Harry by surprise, and he was pretty sure it was written all over his face. What had he done now?

"Sit." Snape sighed.

Harry took a tentative seat.

"This..." Snape cleared his throat.

This wasn't going to be good, Harry knew.

"You will recall when I told you earlier this year that your Father had been killed by his friend?"

Harry gave a slow nod at this. He did remember. How could he not?

"Yes well. This friend... went on quite the killing spree after your Father's murder. He managed to kill quite a few Muggles. They found him atop the pile of bodies, laughing maniacally.

He'd also managed to kill another friend of your father's, who had apparently decided to try and apprehend him. A ridiculous attempt, since he was absolutely useless at most magic. A decidedly reckless and Gryffindor thing to do.

The largest part of him they managed to find was a finger. The friend who killed your father was sentenced to life in Azkaban."

Harry swallowed at this. Gryffindor? And who was this sick so-called friend?

"His name is Sirius Black, and the Headmaster just received word that he has escaped."

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

And add a fuck just for good measure.

"The headmaster is afraid that Black might be after you- trying to finish the job he began. Or perhaps after Longbottom, to drag him before his master like a sacrificial lamb."

Great. Harry let loose a groan.

Wasn't this year fucked up enough? Really?

"I also feel the need to tell you that, according to Wizarding Law, he is your official Godfather."

Great. Just fucking great. His Godfather turned out to be some kind of crazed killer.

His life needed to get the memo that it was just officially a bitch.

"Right then." Snape said, looking rather murderous. Which was strange, considering that his Godfather wasn't some strange psychotic killer. "Get to bed. Now."

Harry really didn't need to be told twice. He needed a little time and some space to process.

He left more quickly than was really polite, though Snape didn't seem to mind in the least bit. He punched a wall in a deserted corridor, though it seemed more detrimental to his hand that the wall.

He was pretty sure he'd heard something crunch, and a quick test let him know that something was definitely broken.

When he entered the House commons it was eerily deserted.

_They're all probably waiting to ambush me in my own common room. This is far too public._ He thought grimly.

It turned out to be true, what with the fist that hit him squarely in the nose the moment he stuck it into the fifth year commons.

"What the fuck was that Potter?" Draco snarled, letting loose another punch which Harry managed to catch with his unharmed hand.

Harry growled at him- he usually didn't need to really fight for his place in the House after their first year, but this had obviously caused an upset.

Harry was the silver back wolf, and he wasn't going to let this undermine anything.

Draco growled right back at him.

"Draco! Stop it!" Daphne's voice cried.

But Harry and Draco both knew this had to be done, even the other girls seemed to know it, for he vaguely heard them trying to calm her.

"Let go of my hand, Potter." Draco hissed.

"No." Harry growled right back at him.

There was stunned silence at this- Harry never really addressed anyone who wasn't on his 'Close Friends' list.

The two boys continued to stare at each other, Harry still clenching at Draco's fist.

"Alright, this is ridiculous." Tracey's voice finally came. "We need explanations. Not men growling at each other."

Draco slowly dragged his hand away, and Harry let it go, keeping his defensive pose.

"Good. Now, Potter, start explaining."

Harry shrugged, eyes still on Draco.

"Oh for... both of you just _sit down_." Tracey said shoving Draco in the shoulder.

The move took him by surprise and he fell into a chair.

"Look Potter- what the fuck happened tonight? It was frankly disgraceful. We expected it from Longbottom, not from you."

"I don't know." Harry rasped, looking her straight in the eye. He was a pretty convincing liar.

"You don't know?" Tracey asked, incredulous. "How can you not know?"

"Because I don't." He said firmly.

"So what you're trying to tell us is that you have _no idea_ how your name ended up in the Goblet?"

Harry shook his head.

"Bullshit." Draco snarled.

"For fuck's sakes'!" Harry snarled right back. "Why would I do this to myself? _Think_ about it! I hate everything this competition stands for! Honour? Glory? Don't make me laugh!"

His little speech seemed to have quite an effect on the gathered masses. It was, he supposed, the pro's and the con's of not speaking a lot all rolled into one.

He never voiced his opinions, which made it hard for others to really know what they were, but he definitely lived by them. And if there was one thing no one could ever say about him it was that he sought out honour and glory.

It also made people a lot more willing to listen.

"You have a point there." Tracey conceded.

"Harry would never do that. He hates photographs, remember?" Daphne said, her green eyes wide and earnest.

"But that doesn't really _answer_ any questions. It just creates more!" Pansy said in frustration.

Draco was looking at him with steady, silver eyes. Harry didn't back down.

"Say we _do_ believe you- what does that mean?" Draco finally asked.

"That it's a huge conspiracy to ruin his pretty face?" Terence Higgs offered.

It seemed to have a general effect of making everyone in the room turn to stare at him, and Harry felt his eyes widen involuntarily.

He _refused_ to blush at that comment though.

"Harry Potter, Harry Potter,

He makes all the girls besotter,

All the boys cry:

Why, why, why?

His pretty face,

is like an antique vase,

His emerald eyes,

Could not attract flies,

Even though the boys

Wish he'd let up on their toys..." Urquhart sang.

And that caused general laughter to rise up amongst the Slytherins. Harry just stood there, completely bewildered, and wondering what the hell he'd missed.

Daphne came up to him as everyone turned to congratulate Urquhart and Vaisey on their latest limerick- Harry heard one of the girls suggest something about his tattoos- and she smiled at him as she reached for his hand.

Harry immediately put the injured one behind his back and reached for her with the uninjured one.

"You hurt your hand." Daphne whispered.

Harry just gave her a lopsided grin. "It's fine."

"It's bleeding. Give it here."

Harry shook his head vehemently.

"Harry..." She looked down, before looking up at him through her lashes. "Harry, we're dating now. That means you have to let me take care of you too. Please?"

Well shit.

How was he supposed to say no to that?

With a sigh he held out his hand, letting her take it into her own small, soft hands and for a moment Harry found himself ashamed of his coarse, working class hands. But she merely smiled at him and looked at the damage.

"It's broken. Harry... you need to be careful. This is going to be a tough year..." She whispered at him.

She honestly had no idea.

She gave him a smile though, and a soft "Episky!" later his hand was healed. It would be tender for a while, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

"Alright, alright. Amusing as this little interlude has been we haven't actually _decided_ what to do." Draco broke into their little quiet moment.

"What's there to decide?" Vaisey said suddenly. He wasn't really someone who tended to intrude in House politics. Everyone stared at him like he was insane. Or really slow.

"No- I'm serious people! We have a fucking _champion_ here. Weren't you all bitching and moaning about how no Slytherin would get into the competition?"

His House turned to look at him once more, and Harry raised an eyebrow at them. Vaisey was right, he supposed.

"Vaisey's right." Teddy said, excitement in his voice. "We have a champion!"

"I don't know... it's a little optimistic for us." Pansy mused.

"We can do it though!" Teddy grinned. He really was a hopeless optimist, despite their attempts to make him more realistic.

"We could try it though, as a kind of experiment. If it doesn't work we never have to do it again." Tracey nodded.

"You're kidding me, right?" Draco asked.

"No, no! Think about it- this is actually pretty awesome!" Urquhart smiled, punching Vaisey in the arm.

"I'm not conviced." Draco growled.

"Well what else are we going to do? Ostracise him? We're not a bunch of pansy-ass Gryffindors! We're _Slytherins_. We take advantage of situations others would deem hopeless!" Tracey snapped at him.

"Fine. But I do not like this." Draco scowled and crossed his arms over his chest.

"We never said we _liked_ this. But it's happened. Now we deal with it." Pansy said, reasonably.

"And I believe Harry when he says he didn't do it. Or that he knows _why_ it was done." Daphne said, hooking her arm into his.

"You _have_ to believe him though." Urquhart pointed out, amusedly.

Snickering broke out at this, but it wasn't really malicious, and Daphne stuck out her tongue at him.

"Alright, enough of this lovey-dovey shit. Go to bed. All of you." Draco sighed, rubbing his tired eyes.

Well... that went surprisingly well, Harry thought as he gave Daphne her goodnight kiss.

Draco's eyes never left him though.

Harry couldn't help but feel he'd lost him.

He resolutely ignored the hole that seemed to create in his chest.

BaB-HP-BaB

Letatsi gasped as she bumped into what seemed to be a very solid piece of air.

Well, that was interesting. She put out her hand, and found that that was stopped in the same place.

_Oh, yes. Seems I'm not the only one to ignore those lovely "Trespassers will be shot, survivors will be shot again!" signs._

Letatsi raised her hand and slapped it against the invisible barrier, causing a ripple of blue to bleed into the air.

Smirking, she slapped it again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

"Tae Se'el!(1)" A loud voice came from the cave she had been approaching.

For a hermit of apparently mystical powers and incredibly antisocial tendencies who apparently skinned people who approached him alive, like some sort of antelope, he sure made it easy to find him.

Maybe this was a Bad Idea.

But it was her only idea, really, and how pathetic was that?

"I will not!" She yelled back.

"Se'el(1)... I have a gun you know! And I'm a very powerful sangoma(2)!"

"I know- that is why I have sought you out!"

"Jae, well, I don't do fortunes."

"That is not..." She sighed. She had to be calm about this, her people hung in the balance. "I am not here to have my fortune read, Great Hermit!"

"Oh no? Then what _are_ you here for?"

"For the good of my people!"

"... Jae(3) no. I don't do that either."

"Please! You must help us! Malesotho is dead!"

There was the sound of quick steps and then a man appeared in the mouth of the cave. He was tall, white and tanned with a shock of snowy hair and eyes that she could see even from this distance were a stormy, glowing red.

"What?" He demanded.

"So you do know what that means." She sighed, looking down.

"That really depends."

"On what?"

"On what _you_ think it means."

"I know what it means. And I know that you know what it means! And it will kill my people!"

"Oho! Will it now?"

"Yes!"

"Well, that's not really my problem, now is it?"

"Please! I... I will do anything..."

"And what do you think I want with you?"

"You want my soul." She said, with determination.

"Excuse me? Your soul? What the fuck would I want with your soul girlie?"

"... I don't know! What do Demons generally do with human souls?"

"... Demons, ne?"

"Yes! And I cannot allow my people to die. Therefore, I shall give you my soul."

"Se'eeeeeeel(4)... I am far too old for this karak(5)!"

"Will you take my soul? It is pure, as is befitting a princess."

The man let out a harsh bark of laughter. "So what you're offering is a virgin sacrifice, huh?"

Letatsi bristled at his crudeness. But the man held up his hands and said: "Peace, princess! I mean no offence."

"Then there is no need to be crude!"

"Na, na(6). Pardon my rudeness. It's not every day that a princess shows up on my doorstep."

And with that he was next to her, looking at her with those red eyes.

"Tell me, Letatsi, why should I accept your soul? What would you wish in return? Think carefully girlie, because selling your soul is a deal that _cannot_ be undone."

"I want you to save my people."

The man shook his head. "It doesn't work that way, Princess. I cannot save your people. I can only help _you_ to save them."

Letatsi swallowed hard. "Then I want you to help me. I want you to do _anything_ and _everything_ in your power to allow my people to survive."

"And for this, you would trade your immortal soul?"

"Yes."

"Very well, then Letatsi, Princess of Lesotho. I accept."

And with that the world went blank.

BaB-HP-BaB

_The field was warm, and the grass was green, with little wild flowers blooming everywhere. It was beautiful. _

"_It is amazing what love can do." Mika said. _

"_What's wrong?" Harry asked immediately. She looked paler than usual (How was that possible?) and a small frown creased her forehead. _

"_As intuitive as always, I see." She graced him with a small, sad smile. _

"_You could just answer a question for once." _

"_I could... but then you would learn nothing." _

"_If I didn't think it would mess up my field I'd kill you." _

"_I doubt that." _

"_Fucking infuriating..." _

"_Peace, Harry Potter." She said raising her hand in a 'stop' gesture. _

"_Then answer my bloody question!"_

"_It is not an easy one to answer." _

"_I could just strangle you..."_

"_And what consequences would that have?"_

"_... Excuse me?" _

"_What consequences would there be?"_

"_Uhhhhh... I'd feel guilty?" _

"_Perhaps, perhaps not. Tell me- what happens to a soul that has killed?" _

"_... It... goes to hell?" _

"_Such a simplistic answer. Tell me, are you in hell?"_

"_That really depends on the day I'm having..."_

"_Be serious."_

"_I am! How am I supposed to know whether I'm in hell? There are theories..."_

"_That state that even we, as we exist, are currently in hell and heaven simultaneously. Or perhaps that hell is your reincarnated form. I am aware." _

"_Pissy tonight, are we?"_

"_Things happen that you are not aware of. Even now, things are happening that we cannot control. You cannot understand all things yet- that is why we are here." _

"_Okay... so the hell thing. I'm not in hell then."_

"_No."_

"_But there is a hell?" _

"_Of a sort, yes." _

"_Alright then... I'm stuck." _

"_Think, Harry Potter, when you killed what did it feel like?"_

"_It... it felt like... like my soul was being ripped apart." _

"_Indeed." _

"_So your soul gets ripped apart?"_

"_In a manner of speaking. It is really more like a tear- a tear in the very fabric of that which defines a human." _

"_So- my soul's all torn up?"_

"_Healing can take place, if you are willing." _

"_And if you're not?"_

"_Then there is nothing to be done."_

"_But isn't killing a mortal sin?"_

"_Magick is not a judge, Harry Potter, it is a law, a governing body." _

"_What- like the Ministry?"_

"_No. you know the principles of Yin and Yang?"_

"_What, dark and light in balance? That thing?"_

"_Yes." _

"_So... magick... keeps the balance?"_

"_It cannot do so inherently. So it is more complex than that." _

"_So... what?"_

"_Magick keeps the balance as much as it can, but people are needed to ensure that magick remains in balance. Magick does not have a conscience as we know it, since it is not technically alive. It is a force."_

"_So people have to act as its conscience?"_

"_If you like." _

"_Not really, but what the hey, right?"_

"_Tell me, why did you have the dreams you did?"_

"_... The nightmares with your voice?" _

"_Indeed." _

"_You wanted to torture me?"_

"_No."_

"_Then I'm stuck." _

"_Think of the state of your soul."_

"_Ragged and ugly?"_

"_Not ugly, merely... tattered in places." _

"_Okay... So did the dreams allow me to come here?"_

"_Yes." _

"_Were they necessary for me to come into my inheritance?"_

"_Yes." _

"_Okay... some kind of process of sowing up my soul then?" _

"_A very vivid description."_

"_Hah! Got it!" _

"_In a sense. When a soul becomes a Guardian it must be pure. But no person's soul can be always pure. The magick had to cleanse your soul, so that it may enter this place." _

"_... Great. I'm a patched pair of jeans." _

"_No. Your soul is clean- therefore it is a pair jeans which has had the patches removed to show new denim underneath." _

"_Seriously?" _

"_Yes." _

"_So... it's brand spanking new? What happens if I kill again?"_

"_You must not!" The outburst was sudden, and then Mika sat back and poured herself another cup of tea. "As a Guardian you _can not_ risk your soul. The consequences are too great." _

"_So what are they?"_

"_If you can not keep your Malango, or Gateway, in balance then grave things will happen to those in your care." _

"_My care?"_

"_Your people, those who are tied to your Malango."_

"_And who would that be?" _

"_Those in the so called 'United Kingdom', those in Europe, Iceland, Greenland and many of the smaller islands surrounding them."_

"_Wait- I'm responsible for all those witches and wizards? Shit!"_

_Mika smiled at him from behind her teacup. "Not just the magic users- _all_ those who live there." _

"_... Bullshit." _

"_I do not make it a habit to lie. It is bad for the soul." _

"_I'll bet." _

"_Your soul is very important- it is in all people. But if your soul is tarnished... nothing good can come of it." _

"_So I won't just suffer some very graphic nightmares?" _

"_Not this time, no."_

"_So... I have to somehow start living a pure life? Seriously? How do I do that- because, in case you hadn't noticed, my life's not exactly the kind of straight and narrow 'make some good decisions, oh does she like me?' kind. _

_It's... more of the damned if you do and damned if you don't." _

"_Then leave." _

"_Excuse me?"_

"_These are dangerous times, and one cannot maintain a pure soul if one is not in seclusion." _

"_And where exactly would I go?"_

"_Come with me. Study all that you need to know and gain inner peace."_

"_... You're serious."_

"_Deathly."_

HP-BaB-HP

**A/N:** Gah! What a loooooong chapter! Sorry, but it's getting harder and harder to cut chapters off. Things are _happening_. See? I told you there's plot! 

Okay... so I apologise for the last part of this chapter. I was writing it and then my Mom's (deleted list of expletives) dog tore my poor cat apart. She's in ICU now, but she needs to stay for at least a week so that they can see if she has any internal injuries... and if that's the case she's going to die. So I'm a bit teary eyed. (And a lot of upset- I want that dog's head mounted on my wall right now. And I like dogs.) So yeah. Pardon. Luckily I tend to write my A/Ns as I go along with my story, so it's not all doom and gloom. Whoo.

Haha- I just couldn't resist the little **Princess Bride** reference in that first part. Don't ask me _why_ because I haven't seen it in ages, it just seemed to work. And I don't know why, but **Star Wars** just seemed to fit into the Harry/Severus scene. I think I am dying from Sherlock deprivation.

Poor **Neville**- he's so confused. And Dumbledore isn't making things any easier. The question, I suppose, is has Snape told Dumbledore? What is the old man stirring up now? Probably trouble. :D I really do love Dumbledore, even the last book couldn't quite kill my liking of him (which it apparently did for a lot of people) but he's just human. And not a particularly transparent one either.

For those of you who are like me when it comes to **names**: Sabrina is the owner of the Kneazle Bakery, where Harry works during the holls, Nanna is her mother, and Adrienne is the little girl. That's why Harry thinks about them.

**Severus** has such a gift for lovely, impassioned speeches doesn't he? Well, if it works I suppose it's really the point, so we shan't critique him too harshly. Personally I found it very amusing to write. I thought: hey, what would Snape do? Hehe. Hopefully it's in character.

Ahhhh, **Slytherins**. Aren't their minds just wonderfully convoluted? I mean, they can really make the best of anything, and they really do believe in sticking together. As to Urquhart's little ditty... I don't know. I'm no good at writing them, but it just seemed to sort of put itself there, so what's a poor author to do? I don't think Harry's going to have a good time of it _inside_ the hallowed House of Slytherin, but they're sticking with Snape's teachings and sticking together to the outside, so that's something at least. At least Harry has Daphne.

On the **Letasti/Demon Hermit** scene: yes, yes. OC's hiss! Boo! But, like with everything else I do, I promise that they have an actual **point**. The plot just wouldn't work without them, and I hate to see Voldemort relegated to some idiot who tries to kill a boy and is then defeated with "Expelliarmus!". Really? That was just... too anticlimactic. So he's going on an actual world-wide reign of terror, and he's starting in Lesotho. Why, you ask? I won't tell... yet. ;D Ahem, also, the language he swears in is one of my own invention (Grah! This bloody story is spiralling out of my control!) and the origins will be explained. In the next chapter.

Also: on **Letatsi's rather erudite English**- she's a Sotho princess. In Lesotho that means that you do British A-Levels. I knew a Sotho princess back in my old college and she had an actual British english teacher- it was very confusing at first. Also- there isn't actually _one_ Sotho princess in the real Lesotho, there are a lot. But for the purposes of this little yarn, she's the only one. ;D

**Translations:**

"Fuck off"

"Fuck"

"Yes"

"Fuuuuuuck... I am far too old for this shit."

"Yeah, yeah."

Damn this is a long A/N!

**Thank you** for all your favs/alerts/reviews! You are awesome readers! So make my day and **review! **Please!

**Coming up**: Letatsi learns some new things, Harry makes a decision and Fleur sees her doggy again. Other than that I cannot promise anything.


	16. Collisions, Matter and Ceilings

**Chapter 1**

"Come with me. Study all that you need to know and gain inner peace."

"... You're serious."

"Deathly."

_Harry gives Mika a long look. _

_She probably doesn't know what she's offering him. What she's asking him to give up- what she's asking him to turn his back on. _

_His friends. _

_Adrienne. _

_Daphne. _

_A new life- a chance at doing things right._

"_It is no easy decision, I am aware." Mika says, her eyes focusing resolutely on him. _

"_I doubt it." Harry grits out. _

_Because wouldn't that just be so easy? To put up his hands, refuse to get involved, wash himself of the consequences of leaving, to say 'not my problem' or 'for my immortal soul' and say that it was all in the name of a greater cause?_

"_No- I do know. Harry, listen to me. I had the same decision to make..."_

"_I _seriously_ doubt that."_

"_When I found out that I was a Guardian, I realized that I had to give up my family and my friends and all of my hopes and dreams... for the sake of those I had never met. _

_It was by no means an easy decision, as very few decisions in life are easy. However- it was the _right_ decision. You cannot risk your soul- it is far too important._

_Remember that it is not only you who suffer the consequences of your actions: it is all those under your care. The future of your wards depend upon your decision this, and every consecutive, night. _

_Will you listen to me, and spare your wards unnecessary suffering?" _

"_You're saying that all the Guardians are weird hermits that never have contact with the outside world?" _

"_It is a choice that all Guardians of the past have made... and it is for the best." _

"_No." _

"_There is no need for hasty decisions..."_

"_You're the one who was putting pressure on me to decide! Well, I've decided! I won't leave everyone to their fates! I refuse!"_

"_You will bring untold misery upon them, Harry Potter, if you decide upon this."_

"_What- no more lectures about hasty decisions?" He spits at her. _

"_No good can come of you staying here- with these people who taunt and tear at your soul. Do not fight the collective wisdom that has been passed down..."_

"_No." _

"_You are being childish. Reticent."_

"_Maybe. I'm not leaving people to their fates." _

"_Ignorant."_

"_Excuse me?"_

"_If you believe that you can make a difference in their fates by remaining here, then you are being ignorant. At least, if you believe it to be a positive difference."_

"_So you would have me abandon all that I care about?"_

"_If you truly care for them, you would realize that you are being selfish." _

"_I do! I care enough to try! If that's selfish... well. I guess I'll have to live with that." _

"_You are dooming them! Can you not see that?"_

"_Fuck off. I'm sticking with the people I care about." _

_Mika's lips thin in irritation, but Harry merely concentrates on waking up..._

And found himself back in his room at 4:15 AM.

With a groan, he ran his hands over his eyes, inhaling sharply the scent of wood and smoke and early morning fire.

He wished he could look at Daphne- see her smiling at him- have her reassure him that she's alright and that they'll mange to work things through.

BaB-HP-BaB

There was, Letatsi decided when she became aware of her surroundings, obviously something very wrong with her currently.

If only because she couldn't feel anything wrong with her.

She was still alive. She didn't feel particularly like eating little children or puppies or even anything more inherently evil than some maize and a few of those little sweet dough-balls that the bakery near her home made...

Was this what it felt to have no soul?

Because, really, it felt no different than usual.

Oh no- had it failed? Worse: had she never had a soul to begin with? Would she have led her people to their downfall without conscience or understanding?

"Morning, Princess!"

Statled, Letatsi jumped and whirled to see the Demon-hermit grinning like an idiot behind her.

"Scared of something, nae?" He smirked at her as he snapped his fingers, his eyes blooming a brief silver colour, and then there was a fire in the pit behind her.

"What is the meaning of this?" Letatsi asked as she pulled herself up straighter, demanding in a voice that was used to being obeyed.

"This?" He swept a hand at the cave they were in.

It was filled to the brim with various knick knacks (some she thought to be easily recognisable, like the miniature model Eiffel Tower, whereas some were less obvious, like the strange little statue of a lizard-snake-bird) and there were a lot of warm blankets in the corner, not to mention the fact that rugs covered most of the floor- except for the fire pit in the middle of the cave.

"Sorry, but being a Demon-hermit doesn't exactly pay well. Funnily enough."

"That is not what I meant- as you are fully aware!"

"You're not a morning person, are you?" He was mocking her, she could see it in his ruby eyes.

"What is going on? You said that you accepted my soul!"

"I did, Your Highness." The title was even more mocking than 'Princess' in his mouth.

"Then why am I still alive?"

The demon huffed out an irritable breath, even as he headed for the fire pit with an undoubtedly stolen sheep trailing behind him.

Which was another weird thing. Really- a sheep?

"Did Malesotho tell you anything, really?" He asked as he promptly sat down across from her and pulled the sheep into his lap.

"... Not about this." Letatsi hedged.

"Of course not." The demon-hermit sighed at her. Then he made a strange sign with his hand, before lightly flicking it in the direction of the pile of blankets.

A book came zooming out from underneath the pile and nearly hit Letatsi square in the face, though she managed to duck just in time, and then it fell lifelessly at her feet.

She gingerly reached out to poke the book with her toe.

"What is this?" She finally asked, unable to recognise the golden lettering on the cover.

"Your owner's guide, of course." He snorted at her (still stroking that sheep, in a decidedly creepy fashion).

"My owner's guide to what, exactly?"

"Your, say, 'pet demon'."

"... What?"

"It's not really technically like that of course, but the demon thing is amusing..."

"Then how is it? I sold my soul to you! It doesn't feel like I'm missing an integral part of myself!" She snapped.

"Se'el... I should have known better. Really. What was I thinking...? Naka ba nearm!(1)"

"Are you _ever_ going to explain this? Have you tricked me in my hour of desperation?"

"Don't be stupid... well. More stupid than you have already been."

"Then you _have_ tricked me!"

"Girlie, you're trying what little patience I have. And that's not a lot. I have promised to help you, for the pre-agreed price of your soul."

"And yet you say you are not a demon one minute- then then next you say you are my pet demon!"

"Look girlie, I cannot be called simply a demon, because that happens to be a very narrow and ignorant world view. I'm a living thing."

"Then you are a demon of sorts!"

"What is it with you people and little boxes? Did I not just tell you that I'm not strictly a demon?"

"You are confusing me!"

"Well excuse me for being a living being and not fitting into your little pre-approved boxes!"

"Gah! What _are_ you then?"

"How do I explain this to you... There are different nations, as you are aware, yes?"

"Yes."

"I am from a different nation... and a different species. So I am almost like... an alien! You know, like in a Sci-Fi adventure? I'm the hot sexy alien with the awesome powers that the mere human doesn't have!"

"... Do you have a point, other than that you have bad taste?"

"Yes! Keep up: I am the... Spock to your Uhura, the Yoda to your Luke..."

"Then you are an alien? Where does my soul come into it?"

"Listen girlie: I said I'm _like_ an alien. I'm not from outer space. Just from... space you can't access."

"... What? Like the back of my shoe closet?"

"The back of your...? you know what- I don't want to know. Have you ever heard of the fourth dimension?"

"Yes. It is what my brother used to blame when we were children and he lost his toy or his bag or his blazer or..."

"Wow. Your brother lost a lot of his stuff."

"We were ten. And I fail to see what this has to do with anything."

"Well... the fourth dimension isn't just an excuse for losing things. It's real."

"... Really now."

"Yes. And I am sort of, kind of, from there."

"How long have you been out here? Because it is clear that you have lost your mind. Or maybe I took a wrong turn at the northern most mountains...?" She mused thoughtfully.

The Demon Hermit huffed in frustration, before he put the sheep down. "Here Bill, hold on a second would you? We have a doubter."

"Bill...?" Letatsi asked, giving the sheep a disturbed look. Bill just bleated innocently back at her.

A flash of light and a cloud of smoke caused her to screw her eyes shut and wave her hand in front of her face in a vain attempt to dispel the smoke.

"Proof enough for you, Princess?" The voice sounded like it had a bit of a built in echo, deep and gravelly as it was.

When Letatsi opened her eyes, she let out an astounded gasp.

For there, perched in front of her was a huge, snow white dragon.

"... Bullshit." Letatsi found her mouth seemed to work without her brain at the moment because it was chanting _It's a dragon, it's a dragon, it's a damn well DRAGON DEMON HERMIT! What have you done you stupid, stupid girl?_ over and over again.

The dragon snorted at her.

"So much for the purity of your soul, princess."

"So... you are not a demon- you are a dragon?"

"Psh. Narrow minded girl, who says that I cannot be both?" The transition back to human form was far less showy this time.

"How is that possible...?"

"Simple. I am both, and yet neither simply because I come from another world where I would simply be the same as all the other people there. Like your idea of a human being.

But here I am a bit of a bastard child of the dragon and a demon, because your tales are based upon encounters that your people have had with my people. See- simple." He smiled at her and started to pet Bill again.

"... Alright. I suppose. That still does not explain why my selling my soul would be an option..."

"Because, my people do not have souls of their own. We have... anti-souls I suppose you could call it."

"Anti-souls? You mean like anti-matter?"

"Hey, look- the Princess does have a brain. Yes. A bit like that."

"And...?"

He snorted at her again. "Na, na. Impatient, aren't you?"

"Yes. I am. It is, after all, my soul."

"I didn't eat it, if that's what you're worried about. But the meeting of a soul and an anti-soul... it allows me to access powers that I am otherwise unable to access by myself."

"Why?"

"Well... speaking of matter and anti-matter, you know that when the two collide a great amount of energy is released, right?"

"I also know it burns out particularly quickly."

"Ah, that it does. It is a finite amount of energy that can be released, much like the burning of one gram of coal can only release so much energy. The point is- you only have one soul, and so I only have one anti-soul. So we can only release so much energy from the collisions of our souls."

"I do not like where this is going." Letatsi growled.

"Oh, and I do?"

"What happens when we... 'use up' our souls?"

"Simple: we die."

"What?"

"Hey, I asked whether you were sure about this. You said you'd do anything. Why do you think I was so reluctant?"

"And if I decide never to... collide my soul with yours?"

"Ah, that is quite the question isn't it? The answer is simple: our souls are already in contact with each other, so they do burn little bits of each other off all of the time. Admittedly, not as much as if we were to combine them for the power boost, but it's still happening. So in total it will cut off about half of your life expectancy."

"... Oh." Letatsi said, hugging her arms around her legs and feeling as though she wanted to cry.

"Look, if you're going to cry, do it facing away from me. I can't handle crying women."

"You are terrible!"

"Demon, remember?"

"... Are these powers able to save my people?"

"Unless they have someone like me on their side."

"I do not believe so, they seemed completely human to me."

"Then there you go- no problem."

"... This can not end well."

HP-BaB-HP

Fleur Delacour sneezed.

It was a properly Veela-ish sneeze, all petite and quiet and pretty.

Which wasn't the point. The point was that this stupid British weather had gotten her sick.

Delicately blowing her nose into her lace-edged handkerchief, she huddled miserably in her nest of blankets and covers. There was no way she was going outside.

Not even for her doggy.

Oh blast it all.

The dog was still out there- and it had no shelter, no food, no medical attention...

She was going to have to go get the dog some food, wasn't she? But what? She could hardly go back to that dingy pub or people were going to start thinking she had a drinking problem.

Which was just... bad.

With a dramatic sigh she fell back on her bed, placing a hand on her brow and staring at the ceiling.

This was ridiculous. It wasn't her dog- and Madame Maxime would have her head if she caught her going near it again.

Oh, sod it all.

An irritated huff, and then she threw the blankets off herself and headed for her closet. She'd just bundle up and deal with any fallout later.

It was just a little cold after all. She wasn't some _sissy_ who felt the need to overreact at every little sneeze.

Five layers later, she threw the boy's cloak over herself and braved the outdoors.

The little village looked much the same as the previous time she had been there, all little shops and brick faces with little winding roads and a few people strolling around. She supposed it could be called... quaint.

If you really wanted to.

Fleur really didn't want to.

It was cold and wet and windy and utterly _miserable_.

She hated this country.

And where was the damned dog? Didn't it understand that she was suffering for it?

A sudden movement to her left had her startling, before she recognised the dog. It was snuffling through trash and Fleur felt a little stab of guilt for her callous thoughts.

After all, this poor little dog was suffering from cold and hunger- and who knew whether it was sick or something?

She pulled off her one glove and headed in the dog's direction.

"'Ello leetle doggee! 'Ow are you? Are you 'ungry?"

The dog turned to her, tail wagging and (she could swear) a little grin on its muzzle, before it sniffed her hand and gave a happy little bark as it sat.

"Oh! You are such a good leetle doggy! 'Ow could anyone just abandon you? Who could do zat to such a lovely leetle doggy? 'Oo's a good doggy? 'Oo? Eez eet you? Oui? Oui?"

The dog gave a happy little bark at this and Fleur laughed as she scratched its ears. It really was a smart dog.

"Alright leetle doggy, let's get you somesing to eat, oui?"

Another bark and it ran past her to the entrance to a shop- a pet shop. Fleur smiled at it.

"You are ze smartes doggy I know! Seet, and I will be right back. Good doggy!"

The wizard behind the counter looked at her strangely when she asked for dog food, but it seemed that they did stock some since apparently there was a rather elderly family who bred Swiss Sheperds. No one knew why, but they stocked it up to eccentricities- which the Wizarding World had many of- and just got the damned food.

So it was that Fleur levitated a very heavy bag of dog food out of the store, smiling at the dog still sitting where she'd left it.

"Alright, Doggy, now we just need to find you somewhere to stay so zat I can feed you. Any ideas?"

The dog barked and headed off to a house on a hill. Fleur set off behind it, completely ignoring the strange looks she got.

The dog scampered between a hole in the fence and Fleur made a face. She doubted she'd get through there with all her layers on- so she systematically began to remove them, the dog waiting patiently for her all the while.

When she finally managed to squeeze herself through the dog led her around to a window which it had clearly broken into. This was easier to squeeze through and she sneezed again when the collected dust rose up around her like a vengeful hive of bees.

The place was absolutely and completely held hostage by the dust, she could see that, and she wondered why this place was abandoned.

The dog barked impatiently at her and she smiled at it.

It turned out that the dog had made itself at home in the only room which still had a bed, burying into the threadbare blankets.

Fleur tutted at that, and took a broken chair leg (it looked like the dog had taken to chewing the furniture to still its hunger) and transfigured it into a blanket.

Satisfied that her transfiguration skills were as good as ever (it wasn't her best subject, but she still got great marks) she began to systematically transfigure all the loose pieces of wood into blankets.

The dog seemed extremely pleased with this and barked a happy little tune as she worked.

Finally, Fleur was satisfied that there were enough blankets to prevent it from freezing to death, and with a wistful look she wished she was any good at household spells. As it was, she'd probably just kill them in some sort of dust storm.

"Alright, Doggy, let's feed you!"

Once that was done, and she'd filled another transfigured bowl with some fresh water, she hunched down and smiled at the dog.

"You know, we cannot just call you Doggy forever. What can I call you...? Merlin?"

A growl let her know this wasn't an option.

"'Ow about... Arthur? No? Mmm... Mordred?"

The dog snorted at this and Fleur threw her hands up in the air.

"You are such a barbarian! What do you want me to call you? Fluffee?"

The dog scrunched up its nose before making a snuffling sound.

"Or maybee I should just call you Snuffles." She said sarcastically.

The dog barked at this.

"You 'ave got to be keeding me."

HP-BaB-HP

Viktor Krum felt his nostrils flare in annoyance as yet another giggle broke the silence of the library.

This was ridiculous. He was used to living a pretty sequestered life, what with his parents being farmers in a part of the country where you had to fly for nearly a day to find someone else and being in an all boys school.

Another giggle and Viktor broke his quill.

Closing his eyes (he'd only been here what? Three days? And he was about ready to run and hide from these stupid _giggles_) and taking a deep breath he mumbled a spell to clean the mess.

Admittedly, he couldn't fix the quill. He'd tried it once before and nearly decapitated Andrei in the process. They'd agreed whole heartedly that broken quills were to be thrown away.

Speaking of Andrei- the bastard had ditched him that morning, saying something about a girl who wasn't a cross-dresser. Which was, even by Andrei's tortured artist rock star thing, _weird_.

But they had a potions essay due, and even if the potions professor hadn't seemed to have flown straight from hell on those robes of his, Viktor knew that he needed at least four days to make a potions essay _work_. And he needed potions to study anything sports related.

So he grit his teeth and surreptitiously tried to find someone he could possibly borrow a quill from. Not seeing anyone he stood, cracking his spine, and headed towards the bookcases that separated the little tables that students generally worked at.

There was a scurrying noise and some squeaks.

It reminded him of exterminating garden gnomes.

Admittedly, the 'garden' gnomes in Bulgaria were more like crop trolls, but the general idea was the same.

Viktor moved haphazardly through the bookcases. The bloody library was like a maze- and he _always_ got lost in mazes.

Nothing. Empty. No one there...

It seemed it wasn't just at Durmstrang that a morning spent in the library was considered a mortal sin.

"Oh! Look at that! Isn't it amazing? Right, so... was it what you were expecting? Because I'm not really sure if it's what I was expecting..." A girl's voice caught his attention.

Finally! Some nerds!

Viktor took a hard left into the passageway... and stopped.

For there, sitting in the golden glow of the morning sun, was the most gorgeous girl he had ever seen.

She was chatting away to a dark haired boy, but Viktor found himself transfixed by her gentle curves and the way the light shone through the slight frizziness in her hair made her seem as though she had a halo.

Viktor only realized that he had been staring, open mouthed, when the distant sound of her talking trailed off and he found himself being glared at by the boy.

Clearing his throat nervously (for _She_ was looking at him now) he shuffled over to their table and gave a smile.

Admittedly, he'd been told by Andrei that it was more of a sickly grimace and that he should stick to being the dark and brooding part of their duo, but what else was he supposed to do?

He'd never really had the chance to be interested in girls- his head was always in the clouds. Literally.

"Uhm, yes? How may I help you? I mean, I _am_ a prefect so you can ask me almost anything." She gave him a small smile. Though she didn't seem very pleased to see him.

And she didn't giggle.

Or flutter her eyelashes.

Or _flirt_.

She just seemed mildly annoyed.

Viktor felt himself flush under her scrutiny.

"I vonder if you have a quill for me to lend?" He managed to get out.

"Oh! Yes- I always keep extras with me! And it's borrow- not lend. At least... oh, never mind." She said, digging a whole bunch out of her bag. "You can never have too many quills, which I'm really learning since I'm prefect this year. I could probably start my own stationery shop with the amount of people I've given quills to this year. And I always say: make sure you have at _least_ two quills with you at all times, because if the one you're using breaks, then what? I mean, even you should keep extras handy. I seriously doubt that your fangirls keep good quality writing instruments around. And if you take theirs- then what will they do? Undoubtedly their hormones do all their thinking, and I don't really lend my notes out to strangers, so you could theoretically cause someone to fail! And wouldn't that just be terrible?"

"... Yes?" He asked quizzically as he took the proffered quill. His English wasn't nearly good enough to keep up with her mile-a-minute mouth.

"Yes. Well. You just think about that then." She nodded at him. "And ask your fan club to keep it down. Please."

And with that she turned back to the boy.

Viktor assumed that meant he was dismissed.

With one last longing look at the girl (what would it be like to run his fingers through her hair? Was it as soft and free as it looked?) he turned back to the maze of books.

He got lost.

A lot.

He wondered who she was.

Was her name as beautiful as her face?

He finally managed to stumble upon his own table once more, only to curse a blue streak at the sight that met him.

The contents of his bag had been thrown out onto the table- and anything of real value, including his introduction to his potions essay, had been taken.

Bloody fangirls.

HP-BaB-HP

The cloaked figure cursed.

Somewhere in this accursed cave there had to be a way to not only find the girl, but also to find the Gateway.

It was the third day the Figure was spending in this hell hole of a country, and patience was wearing thin from Masters and Figures both.

It was a shame the Figure was ignorant of any field tracking techniques, although there were other talents the Figure had that made it very valuable to Dark Lords.

Cursing once more, the figure sent a ball of fire towards a cupboard in the corner which had yielded nothing but clothing and other idiotic things.

The resulting inferno made enough light to see the ceiling by.

And there it was- the key to the Figure's quest.

Painted on the ceiling were the keys to the Gate- the Figure could tell by the basic design that all Gates seemed to have in common.

And so, by the light of the burning cupboard, the Figure built steps from the rubble strewn around the mouth of the cave and stepped up to touch heaven itself.

HP-BaB-HP

In seven corners of the earth, Guardians gasped in pain and despair.

In Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry Potter rubbed absently at his shoulder.

In the Fourth Dimension, a snake smiled.

HP-BaB-HP

**A/N:** Uhm. I'm **sorry** about the lateness of this chapter... But real life decided to intrude and it got a bit hectic. It involved rabbit poop, my grandmother, copious amounts of fudge, laundry, cat orgasms and a bunch of London Tipton style clapping. So yeah.

I'm **surprised** at how many of you thought he should just leave. That's kind of mean (and, you know, bad for my plot line). But he didn't- he decided to stay and tough it out! Go Harry! Whoo! Sorry. Lack of sleep talking here. Also, if Mika is a bit pissy in this dream sequence then it's because Malesotho just died and Harry's being stubborn. I think anyone would get a bit worked up.

The Letatsi/Demon Hermit scene was fun to write. Though it had to be edited because I ended up going off on tangents about **anti-matter** and ended up at the Higgs... so yes. But I hope it's **clear**. If not- tell me and I'll rework it.

Awwwwwww... **Viktor** has a crush. On everyone's favourite know-it-all. Don't ask me why, but somehow it's love at first sight. And Hermione's a completely clueless and more than a little miffed at him and his fan club. Sweet kids.

Uhhhhhm... what more can I say about this chapter? A lot happened... but it was a bit... **bleh** for me. If you agree (or, you know, disagree is nice too) then please let me know. **I beg thee shamelessly for reviews!**

Thank you for all your favs/alerts/reviews! When did we pass that two-hundred mark? Really? **You're so awesome** to me...


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